The Return
by bookfan12
Summary: This is set at the end of season 4. Will Finch be able to save The Machine? How will Shaw return? Can Team Machine defeat Samaritan once and for all? Will there be a happy ending for Root & Shaw?
1. Chapter 1

_Hello there, so I'm new to this online world of writing so please take it easy on me, but be honest - I can take it. I love Person of Interest, so I've started writing this story which is now turning into a worrying addiction. I'm not sure that I've done the great characters in this show justice, so please let me know if I should give up..._

 **CHAPTER ONE: Meeting Juliet**

Team Machine stood huddled together outside the large red apartment building they exited only minutes ago. John Reese peered around the corner, silently counting twenty, maybe thirty Samaritan agents. Their guns were raised and they waited patiently for their opponents to come out of their only remaining hiding place.

"There are too many of them…"said John as he turned back to face Finch and Root

Root faced John defiantly, the anger at John's suggestion clear in her voice "Are you really giving up now John? After _everything_ we've been through?"

"It's not a question of giving up. I'm telling you how it is. We won't be able to take these guys down" replied John.

They were alone now. Their God, their protector was condensed into just one briefcase. If there was a way out, they were going to have to find it on their own. As Finch listened to John's assessment of their situation, he gazed at John's injured arm and silently prayed for a miracle to save them.

"Miss Groves" spoke Finch suddenly, interrupting the thoughts of the other two "I think we should consider the very real possibility that we may be captured" he added

Root was silent and pensive, staring blankly at her two friends, small tears forming at the base of her eyes as she thought about Finch's statement. "Harold….if we're captured, The Machine will die with us"

There was a momentary silence as everyone contemplated the consequences of their predicament as well as their lives without The Machine. Harold Finch however, had apparently made peace with such an event. "The Machine may already be dead." he said.

Root inhaled a sharp breath to argue against Harold's assumptions regarding the condition of The Machine, when something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. In the middle of the road, facing them was a manhole cover and Root wasted no time in trying to open it. Minutes later, with John's aid, the three of them stared down into the dark hole.

"So….. Who wants to go first?" said Root with that mischievous tinge in her voice.

Unsure of what was waiting for them at the other end, John went down first, followed by Finch. When they got down, they were knee deep in cold, dirty water. The smell was unbearable and it was almost dark. The only hope came in the form of a very faint light, far in the distance.

Upon seeing the light, John half smiled "Walk towards the light?"

"I think the convention is to walk away from the light Mr Reese"

A raised eyebrow from John awaited Finch when descended the slippery ladder. "However, in this case…I think we should walk towards the light" he corrected whilst gazing at John apologetically.

Root's decent was rapid. Part way down the ladder, she jumped into the water "Gentlemen " she said whilst counting the bullets in her only remaining weapon "….whichever direction we go, I suggest we hurry"

Initially, they made steady progress through the semi-darkness. John was methodical and tactical, eliminating any hazards such as lose pipes and debris, enabling Finch to keep up the steady pace behind him, whilst Root patrolled the back. They were momentarily interrupted by a couple of ricocheting bullets. Root encouraged John and Finch to keep up their pace, whilst she took care of their tail. Once she emptied the last of her bullets into the two agents pursing them, she ran through the water and caught up with John and Finch.

"John" she said whilst catching up on breaths "Something's wrong, there were only two of them behind us -" she ended abruptly, as she observed John's frustrated expression

Suddenly it occurred to Root that they had reached an impasse. She noticed that John stood in front of an inch thick, metal, floor- to- ceiling mesh. Finch rested on another ladder, similar to the one they used moments ago. A resigned look covered both of their faces.

"They're waiting for us, aren't they?" she said as she pointed up the ladder.

John nodded softly in agreement and the silence that followed was deep and dismal. Seconds later, it was only broken by the sound of approaching footsteps and the soft waves in the dirty water.

Samaritan had them surrounded. They were out of weapons. They were out of options.

"Harold!" John announced suddenly, waking everyone from their thoughts. Pointing to the briefcase which housed The Machine, he added "is that case waterproof?"

"Yes, I think so"

"Good"

John pulled the briefcase out of Finch's hand, dived to his knees besides the ladder leading up to the surface and stuffed the case behind the ladder. Once the briefcase appeared secure enough within the confines of the ladder, John pushed it down and completely submerged it underwater.

"Mr Reese, what are you-"

Root smiled excitedly as she worked out the logic of John's thoughts "Samaritan doesn't know we've managed to save The Machine.." she said aloud to no-one in particular

"I'm giving your precious Machine a resting place.." explained John to both of his companions "at least until one of you can come back and get it"

Finch stared at "the resting place" of his Machine as he spoke "I appreciate your optimism Mr Reese, but given our situation -"

"Oh Harry.." Root interrupted with a fond smile "stop putting such a damper on things. The Machine is safe from Greer, that's all that matters."

John finally pulled his arms from under water and his look suggested that he had secured the briefcase as best as he could. Finch remained uncertain but nobody had enough time to dwell on the situation. The manhole cover above them opened.

"Right, I guess I'll go first" announced Root and approached the ladder.

At street level, Root found what she was expecting; several Samaritan agents with guns drawn just waiting for an excuse to fire. Finch emerged at the top almost immediately after Root, but John lagged behind, hindered by the sling over his shoulder. Getting impatient with John's pace, a couple of Samaritan agents pulled him to the top. Finch's body tensed as he watched John's face distort in agony when two Samaritan Agents forced his hands behind his back.

"It's about time" declared a loud voice with a thick British accent.

Greer emerged from the shadows, coming to a stop a few feet away from his row of prisoners. "You know Harold…" he began whilst facing Finch "I can believe that you thought you could run from me, _but to think that you could evade Samaritan?_ "

"Samaritan made a deal with The Machine" interrupted Root, ignoring Greer's desire for small talk. "Our lives, for the location of The Machine" she reminded him.

Greer appeared offended at the interruption. "Your Machine is dead!" he said sternly with a smug smile "The deal is void."

"So let us go." suggested John "Without The Machine, we're not a threat to you.."

Greer turned to John with a quizzical frown as if he was actually thinking through John's offer. "I'm afraid I don't agree. I've wasted enough time mending the little holes you keep making in my plans." Turning back to face Finch, he added "but don't worry Harold, I promise I will make this special for you."

Greer scanned the confused and confrontational faces of his prisoners and smiled. Then he stepped aside, exposing a view of a large black SUV.

"Juliette!"


	2. Chapter 2: What have they done to her?

_Hi, a big thanks to you all for reading and following this story. A slightly shorter chapter this one..._

 **CHAPTER TWO: What have they done to her?**

A short brunette, with a messy pony tail, long coat and black jeans emerged from one of the SUVs hidden in the shadows. A gun in her hand, she walked towards Greer in short quick strides.

"Stop calling me that. My name is Shaw" she added angrily, whilst facing him "I'm not a part of some sick fantasy of yours"

"We've talked about this.." Greer said calmly in response "A new name will help you disassociate"

She took half a step towards him, her face inches away from his "I dissociate just fine! I'm a sociopath, remember?"

Finch, Root and John were left momentarily speechless. Finch wasn't sure as to what surprised him more, that she was alive or that she was answering back to Greer. Root observed Shaw from head to toe several times, as if unsure of what she was actually seeing, the emotional struggle clearly visible in her eyes.

" _Shaw_?" whispered Root in a broken voice, a smile creeping up on her face "Shaw, I'm so glad that you're ok.."

Root's eyes remained fixed on Shaw as she waited breathlessly for a response, for recognition, for _something_ , for _anything_? However none came. When Sameen Shaw finally turned to face her former friends, her brown eyes looked far into the distance and were cold and angry.

"Don't be.." she said, her words as cold as her gaze "I'm here to kill you."

John Reese stood handcuffed, in the middle of the dark street, his lips quivering from his wet clothes and cold air, his mind ready for sleep and a hot shower. He had to admit, that a few minutes ago, he had given up trying to fight his way out of this, but Shaw's appearance had re-lit a certain spark in him, even if she was getting ready to kill him.

John observed Shaw intently and immediately recognized the emotional condition of his friend. She was detached, she kept conversation to a minimum and she went out of her way to avoid eye contact. She was following orders. John had been in this position many times before. _You kill people without asking questions or you will be killed._ Understanding the pain such a struggle could cause, John felt no resentment towards Shaw, even if she were to shoot him right now.

Unfortunately, Root's interpretation of Shaw's behavior was not as favorable as John's. She had remained silent for a surprising amount of time, but the anger within her was raging. She began struggling with her handcuffs and when she stepped a few feet towards Shaw, one of Samaritan's agents smacked her across the back of her head. She dropped to her knees on the concrete floor, her long hair covering the front of her face. After a short pause she slowly lifted her head and her heartbroken gaze fixed on Shaw.

" _Sameen_?" she said in a desperate and pleading tone.

Root waited eagerly, for recognition, for clarification, for acknowledgement, her eyes constantly scanning Shaw, but the reply never came. It was like Shaw wasn't emotionally present at this moment in time.

Root's helpless gaze turned to Finch "Harold," she whispered in a hoarse emotional tone "what have they done to her?"

Finch was just as surprised about this predicament as the others, but being the deep thinker than he is, upon seeing Shaw his mind immediately turned to the bigger picture. What was Shaw's role in all of this? Why was she allowed to live all this time and what has it to do with Samaritan? Tortured by the endless unanswered questions in his mind Finch remained silent.

Shaw took a couple of steps towards her prisoners. "You.." she said pointing at Zackary, one of Greer's loyal companions standing behind Finch. "Take these two, I'll take the lanky one" she finished pointing at John.

Root laughed hurtfully "So _you're_ the one giving the orders now?" the anger dominating the sound of her voice. John, standing several feet away from Root, could almost feel the blood boiling in her body.

Shaw ignored Root's retort. All Root received in reply was a shove from Zackary before she and Finch were led into one of the SUVs parked in front of them.

Standing beside Shaw, Greer laughed as he watched Finch disappear into the car. Taking a couple of steps towards Shaw, he leaned into her whispering "Remember, Samaritan is always watching"

Shaw rolled her eyes in frustration, but said nothing. Minutes later however, she could still feel Greer's breath on her neck, so she lifted her gun, clicked off the safety switch and pointed it directly at John "Try anything and you're dead"

Apparently this was enough to ensure Greer of her intentions and he finally walked away. John observed Shaw intently, realizing that she was mentally tracking Greer's footsteps. When Greer disappeared into the car, John noticed a small movement of Shaw's finger on the gun.

Shaw had just switched on the safety on her gun.

Meeting Shaw's gaze for the first time that evening, John finally understood her role in all this.


	3. Chapter 3: Sameen is not the enemy

_Once again a huge thanks to everyone who is reading and following this story and for your encouraging comments. This chapter was a little challenging to write, because of all the action and I'm not totally happy with it but I fear that I'm going to make it a lot worse if I keep changing it...so here it is...I hope you still enjoy reading it._

 **CHAPTER THREE: Sameen is not the enemy**

John sighed heavily as he examined his rather claustrophobic surroundings. He sat at the back of a moving SUV, sandwiched between two Samaritan operatives. Shaw sat in the front passenger seat with a gun in her lap, whilst another Samaritan operative drove the vehicle. John turned his head briefly and was relieved to find that the SUV with Root and Finch was still following behind.

Despite only that one subtle hint from Shaw, John was confident that that their rescue was a part of her plan. Although he was feeling a little more optimistic about their chances of surviving this mess, he was realistic. The fact that he was separated from Root and Finch provided an added complication. On top of that, he had to pay close attention to Shaw, because she may give another clue, if indeed her plan is to rescue them. However he also knew that whatever rescue attempt was going to happen had to happen while they were on route. Any escape would be futile once they arrive at Greer's dungeon of torture.

John watched Shaw for a while, hoping to catch some kind of indication but she remained completely still. _Ok Shaw, I don't know what you got planned but I'm guessing these Samaritan jerks aren't invited?_

His close proximity to the enemy and the need to be discreet meant John took longer than usual to release his hands from the handcuffs. Then, he continued to sit with his hands behind his back, until he saw a car heading towards them on the opposite side of the dark, narrow road. The headlights from the passing car momentarily blinded everyone, giving John the perfect opportunity to take care of his bodyguards. John hit one of the Samaritan operatives with the elbow of his good arm. This incapacitated the agent, giving John a chance to grab the agent's gun from its holder beneath his open jacket. With the gun in his hand, John swung his arm in the direction of the second agent. The butt of the gun hit the second agent directly on the front temple, rendering him unconscious within seconds.

John returned to his seat with a sigh of satisfaction. As he finished adjusting his suit, his eyes looked up and once again he found himself staring at the end of Shaw's gun. Although Shaw wore a good poker face, her gaze portrayed a hint of joy.

"Hand it over" she instructed sternly pointing to the gun in John's hand.

Feeling the attention of the Samaritan driver on her, Shaw added aggressively "Eyes on the road, I've got this.."

As Shaw turned back to face John, she moved her body forward in between the two front seats, stretching her hand out to gather John's gun. Sensing that she was about to reveal something regarding her plans, John leaned in towards her, giving Shaw a chance to simply whisper "Five minutes"

John leaned back into his seat with a blank expression and a calm, preparatory intake of breath. Whilst mentally counting down the clock, John concentrated on the scene out of his window, watching as they traveled deeper into the snowy woods.

Meanwhile, Root and Finch sat next to each other in the back of the second SUV. Zackary was in the front passenger seat and his Samaritan buddy was driving. Root sat behind Zackary, staring aimlessly out of the window, her mind racing at a million miles an hour.

Finch sat in the middle of the three back seats, his eyes fixed directly ahead, watching their journey through the front windscreen. Cautiously, his eyes turned to Root. Although she appeared calm, Finch knew that this was the calm before the storm.

"I want an explanation Harold" she explained angrily, her eyes still fixed on the window

Finch understood that Shaw's return in itself was an emotional roller-coaster for Root. However, Shaw's apparent betrayal provided another layer to Root's pain, making her behavior even more unpredictable than usual.

"Miss Groves, I urge you to concentrate on our current predicament" said Finch in attempt to focus Root's mind elsewhere

Root's head turned towards Finch, slowly and that familiar devious smile emerged on her face. "Oh trust me Harry….I am"

That smile meant only one thing; Root had a plan. Finch was nervous about Root's potential plans. Despite the confident demeanor she portrayed, Finch noted that something about her was different. It was only later, when he observed the hurt and anger reflecting in her eyes that he realized that a part of Root had been replaced.

As if sensing Finch's trepidation regarding her plans, Root shifted forward in her seat, giving Finch a chance to see that she had already dismantled her handcuffs.

Then, to Finch's surprise, Root jumped up from her seat and wrapped the cold chain of her handcuffs around Zackary's neck, attacking him from behind. Zackary struggled for a few minutes, attempting to break free from her grip, but with the aid of the seat, Root was stronger, strangling him within minutes.

Whilst Root was still pre-occupied with Zackary, the agent driving the SUV reached for his gun, aiming it directly at Root. With his hands still in handcuffs, Finch leaned back into his seat and kicked the gun out of the agent's hand. This alerted Root's attention and she threw a couple of solid punches to the drivers face, finally knocking him out cold.

Due to a lack of pressure on the gas pedal, the SUV gradually lost speed. Also the loss of steering and the tough terrain meant that the vehicle was heading off road and into the trees. Finch and Root exchanged worried glances. They couldn't afford to get stuck in the deep snow among the trees. They mustn't lose track of John.

Root climbed through the opening between the two front seats. Crouching on her knees around the gear box, she said "Harry….a little help please" referring to the unconscious driver.

She maneuvered her slim body so that her arm could reach the steering wheel "I'll get the door while you push him out" she added whilst Finch moved back into his seat, ready to stretch his legs once again.

Root and Finch worked together to push the unconscious Samaritan driver out of the car whilst the vehicle was still moving. Then Root slid into the driver's seat and slammed her feet on the gas, maneuvering the SUV off the beaten path and onto a smooth road. Finally in control of the car and with one eye still on the road, Root leaned over the gear box, to search through Zachary's pockets. Seconds later, she threw a set of keys at Finch.

"Free you're hands and buckle up Harry.." she said with that lively tinge in her voice. "It's gonna be a rough ride"

On a smoother road, the SUV gathered speed quickly and Finch gave a short sigh of relief when he spotted John's SUV in the distance. However as John's SUV came closer into their line of sight and Root showed no signs of deceleration, Finch frowned with confusion.

" _Root_ …" Finch said apprehensively "What are you doing?"

With John's SUV only a few feet away from them, Root should have been slowing down, but instead she slammed on the gas pedal hard. The two vehicles collided with a solid thump, causing some unexpected turbulence for all the occupants. Despite this however, John's SUV was still moving forward, irritating Root and urging her to prepare her vehicle for a more significant impact.

"I'm going to get answers Harold.." she replied as she hit the gas pedal once again "I know that you're ok with not knowing why, but _I_ need to know"

Root was angry and determined, so the second time around Root hit the corner of John's SUV at a much higher speed than before. Both vehicles swerved off the main road and into the woods but this time John's SUV eventually came to a stop.

Root's driving had caused Finch to hang on for dear life, even before the collision between the two vehicles. So when he felt the car come to a complete stop, he sighed with relief. Then he gathered his thoughts together and looked up to check on Root but she was already gone. Gun in hand and anger on her face, she was heading for the front of John's SUV.

Upon reaching the driver's side window of John's SUV, Root found John and her irritation only grew stronger. John stared into Root's pained expression, silently urging her to calm down.

"Root" he said in a soft cautionary tone, hoping to snap her out of her anger.

Ignoring John's warning, Root continued her silent pursuit, walking around the front of the car towards the passenger side of the SUV. John knew that Root was about to do something she might later regret. Feeling an increase in the urgency of the situation, John opened the driver's door so that he could follow her, but the door was blocked by a tree, leaving him trapped in his seat.

When Root reached the passenger side of the vehicle, she found the widow completely down and the door slightly ajar. She could see Shaw sitting comfortably in her seat, her hard stare although fixed on Root was completely blank. Root also noted the presence of a somewhat frightened Finch. Since Root's actions were only driven by emotional turmoil, she failed to note the significance of her findings regarding Shaw. However, Finch interpreted Shaw's lack of retaliation as a white flag.

"Miss Groves.." said Finch calmly but confidently "Sameen is not the enemy"

Root tucked the gun in her hand into the back of her jeans. Then she opened the passenger side door and grabbed Shaw by her jacket, pulling her out in one fluid movement. She threw Shaw against the car with an echoing thud, pressing her arm into the curve of Shaw's neck. Root's eyes burned with anger as she scanned Shaw's face for answers.

"She was going to kill us Harold….. _Why_?" asked Root angrily into Shaw's face.

"No, she wasn't" said John unexpectedly, as he emerged from the passenger side of the SUV, coming to stand just next to Root and Shaw.

"Shaw is helping us"


	4. Chapter 4: This changes everything

**CHAPTER FOUR: This changes everything**

Root frowned deeply, the battle between head and heart clearly evident on her face. However, Root's hesitation meant she released some of the pressure that her arm was forcing on Shaw's neck, enabling Shaw to finally meet Root's blazing stare.

Since Root had failed to capture Shaw's attention all night, she was surprised and somewhat startled by Shaw's sudden acknowledgment of her. The sad and apologetic look reflecting in Shaw's eyes was enough to melt Root's resolve and somehow she found herself loosening her grip on Shaw completely. Sensing the change in Root's emotional status, Shaw pulled Root's arms away, easing them down slowly, her gaze confidently matching Root's.

"I'm sorry about before" spoke Shaw sympathetically, her hands still resting on Root's arms. "All those things I said, they were just an act. I had to make it convincing."

Root was silent for a short while, her eyes searching Shaw's face for any signs of deceit. "So you were helping us all along?" she asked in an uncharacteristically shy and uncertain tone.

"Well…I was _trying_ to help." Shaw finally let go of Root and proceeded to adjust her jacket as her eyes stole hidden glances at Root. "But as usual you have to go and complicate things" she added with a piercing stare at Root.

Despite her emotional battles, Root caught on to Shaw's insinuations quickly and this pleased her greatly. A smile formed at the corner of Root's mouth as she continued to observe Shaw intently. _Of course Shaw is helping us, how could I ever think otherwise?_

"At least we're in a Samaritan dead zone" informed Shaw as she pointed to the tops of several trees. "Still, we don't have much time."

Root, Finch and John glanced about the woods in alarm, having forgotten about Samaritan's capabilities. Meanwhile, Shaw retrieved a gun from the glove compartment of her SUV. "Greer will be waiting for us and if we're not out of the dead zone soon he will know something's up" she explained as she counted the bullets in her gun.

"So what do we do?" asked John

"Just a second, Mr Reese" said Finch suddenly, stepping up several steps into the congregation already formed by his colleagues near the open passenger side door of John's SUV.

"Miss Shaw, if helping us was your plan all along…how did you know? How did you know we would be here?" asked Finch guardedly.

Shaw shrugged casually. "I didn't"

Root folded her arms and directed a disapproving glare at Shaw. "We're gonna need a slightly better explanation than that Sam."

Shaw sighed heavily. She wasn't against offering an explanation; she just feared that her explanation would require further explaining. She tucked the gun in her hand into the back of her jeans.

Shaw's blank stare met Finch and following a short exasperated sigh, she replied. "The Machine told me"

Finch and John exchanged puzzled glances. Root's expression however, perked up with interest. Root leaned into Shaw with a slightly amused glint in her eye. " _The Machine_ told you?"

Shaw raised her chin proudly. "Yeah. Jealous much?" she answered with a short smile.

Finch stepped up a little closer to the women, hoping to break up their sparring match. "Miss Shaw, what exactly did The Machine say to you?" he asked impatiently.

Shaw resumed her business-like expression as she turned towards Finch. "A couple of days ago the monitors next to my hospital bed went blank. Next thing I saw was a message on the screen. It said "you work for Greer now""

John scowled unsure of how to interpret this latest news. He glanced at Finch for some guidance but Finch and Root appeared to be sharing some kind of silent hacker conversation. Both had equally contorted faces which suggested that they were in deep thought somewhere far away and shouldn't be disturbed anytime soon.

John turned to Shaw. "What happened after that?"

Shaw massaged her neck softly as she recollected the story. "The Machine gave me some information that could help Greer. I used it to convince him that The Machine talks to me now and that he could benefit from having someone like that on his team."

Shaw paused when she noticed that Root had tuned into her story. Then her shoulders drooped and she sighed somberly, before her gaze met Root's. "My first assignment, was the call I made to you" she said as an unusually sad and apologetic glint reflected in her eyes.

Root was astute enough to recognize that this was Shaw's version of a public apology. Shaw's show of emotion, especially now surprised Root and her first instinct was to reach out a comforting hand towards Shaw, but she wasn't sure if Shaw would appreciate this so she remained still.

Sensing the tension between the two women, John stepped in "So, you did all that because _The Machine_ told you?" he teased Shaw.

"Yeah, yeah" said Shaw as she waved her hand dismissively. She rolled her eyes and continued in an irritated tone. "But as I keep hearing, "she has a plan" and "she sees the bigger picture." I figured The Machine had a plan that I didn't know about." ended Shaw as her slightly amused eyes met Root.

Root grinned proudly. She leaned into Shaw and paused briefly, to enjoy Shaw's standard lip-pout and the accompanying look of mild irritation. Then, Root spoke slowly and in a warm and cheery tone. "Looks like someone's been paying attention in class"

Shaw's brown eyes lingered on Root for a little longer than she meant to. Then she crossed her arms and cleared her throat. Despite her desire to move on, her eyes settled on Root once again, but jumped back to the floor when she caught Root looking back.

"So you've been working for Greer all this time?" asked John

"Yeah" replied Shaw rather too quickly, feeling grateful for the interruption. To reclaim her personal space, she took a couple of short side steps towards John. "They were small jobs at first and it was easy to keep up appearances. But then last night The Machine told me that you would be captured by Greer. It was only then that I realized that The Machine got me to work with Greer so that I could help you." Shaw paused as her gaze dropped to the floor reflectively. "So I persuaded Greer to let me kill you as a final test of my loyalty. It was the only thing I could think of that could get me within reach of you…" she ended abruptly, unsure if the team was able to keep up.

"And?" asked Finch sternly. In response to Shaw's confused frown, he added. "Miss Shaw, I find it hard to believe that Mr Greer simply trusted you to kills us."

It was like the question had changed the synapses in Shaw's brain, because within seconds her manner had changed. Covered by a severe poker face and a business-like, purposeful manner, Shaw spun about and examined their surroundings.

"We should get going" ordered Shaw as she turned about to climb into the SUV.

Root caught Shaw's arm quickly. "What aren't you saying Sameen?" Root insisted, her anxious eyes pleading Shaw to reveal all.

A brief look into Root's stubbornly determined glare, defeated Shaw. She knew when to pick her battles. "Greer has a file, about my mother" she announced factually. "I kill you, I get the file. That's the deal. "

Root, Finch and John exchanged several concerned glances. Meanwhile, taking advantage of a distracted Root, Shaw pulled her arm free from Root's grip.

"Miss Shaw.." spoke Finch somberly "by helping us you're giving up your chance to see that file"

Shaw's eyes met Finch immediately and she smiled fondly. She understood the meaning behind his somewhat obvious statement and this made her uncomfortably emotional. Hoping to mask the unfamiliar feelings threatening to reveal themselves, Shaw shrugged casually. "I know that I'm sociopath and that, but I could never kill you guys."

John and Finch exchanged a brief look of pride as if Shaw's loyalty was somehow a direct result of their achievement. Root smiled as her eyes observed Shaw lovingly.

Needing some kind of reprieve, mostly from Root, Shaw leaned into the SUV and began digging through the glove compartment. "Besides…" she said after a short silence "I figured once we get out of here, you could get The Machine to help me find my mother."

Shaw found a map in the glove compartment and decided the best way of reading it would be to climb into the passenger seat and angle it towards the light coming from the SUV's headlights. However it wasn't long before she felt a nervous tension among her colleagues. When she turned her attention to John, his sour expression startled her.

She poked her head out the car, addressing all of her friends. "Guys, what's wrong?"

"Miss Shaw, although I would be more than willing to help you, The Machine is no longer available" explained Finch hesitantly.

Shaw frowned with confusion. She emerged from the vehicle and her eyes searched Finch and Root for a better explanation. "What do you mean it's not available?"

John shifted his feet nervously. "Samaritan killed it." he announced quickly. Receiving some scolding glares from Root and Finch for his lack of tact, John offered further clarification. "Finch and Root stuffed it into a briefcase which is now underground and which may or may not be found and if it's found it may or may not work"

Mentally Shaw couldn't keep up with John's offhand description. Noticing this, Finch finally spoke.

"I'm afraid John is right, Miss Shaw. We've only managed to rescue a small part of The Machine and it may take years to rebuild it into what it once was"

As Shaw contemplated the latest news, she chewed her bottom lip nervously and her eyes scanned the defeated expressions of all her friends. Then, with squared shoulders and a blank stare, Shaw finally spoke.

"This changes everything"

 _From what I remember the show didn't reveal too much detail about Shaw's mother, so for this story I'm going with the idea that just like us, Shaw doesn't know much about her mother's life...Hope you enjoyed reading this!_


	5. Chapter 5: Someday soon

_As always a huge thanks for reading, following etc and an extra thanks for those of you who reviewed. Your comments are very encouraging, so please keep them coming. Here's the next, rather long chapter - my attempt to make up for the long delay in posting it._

 **CHAPTER FIVE: Someday soon**

Although the past several months had been hell for Sameen Shaw, it was nothing unfamiliar, it's not like she hadn't been tortured before. The unfamiliar part was having someone to think about and something to go back to, to fight for. Finch and The Team had been her only salvation whilst under Greer's influence. Team Machine had given her everything she had been missing most of her life, but now she had a chance to find another missing piece. No matter how much it hurt, she knew that she had made the right decision.

Shaw engaged her best poker face and directed a poised gaze at Finch. "I have to go back, to Greer…" she said as confidently as she could but the words left a bitter taste in her mouth as soon as she spoke them.

Team Machine was silent, the tension thick in the cold night air. Shaw risked a brief glance at Root.

Root frowned in confusion, her normally glistening, lively brown eyes desperately searching Shaw for answers. Shaw closed her eyes and inhaled a deep breath. Then, she raised her chin and her cold, detached gaze met Root.

"No..." whispered Root as she shook her head disapprovingly "You can't go back…"

"Miss Shaw, I urge you to reconsider.." said Finch unexpectedly. "We could still look for your mother without The Machine. It may take longer to track her down, but all of us will help you.." added Finch

A bittersweet smile covered Shaw's face when she turned to face Finch. "I appreciate the offer Harold, I do but.." she bit her lip in thought, as if she was actually contemplating Finch's idea. "I can't look for my mother whilst in hiding or on the run from Samaritan. Besides, Greer's file is the only lead I've had for years."

Root watched the exchange intently, hanging onto Shaw's every word but when she noticed Finch coming around to Shaw's argument, tears began forming in her eyes. Without Finch's and John's support, Root would never be able to persuade Shaw to stay.

Root cut the distance between herself and Shaw in three quick strides. Since Shaw was determined to ignore Root, her body continued to face Finch whilst she did her best to emotionally disregard Root's presence beside her.

"How do you know there's even anything in that file? How do you know that whatever's in there is even true?" asked Root furiously and sternly, as if she was scolding a child.

"You're right, I don't!" answered Shaw curtly whilst glancing at Root from the corner of her eye. "But I have to find out."

"Shaw.." said a gruff voice from behind. "If you go back to Greer, he _will_ kill you this time.." added John as he stepped up closer to Shaw and the others.

"Yes, listen to him!" begged Root fervently. Craving the physical contact, Root grasped Shaw's arm tenderly "Sameen, please think about this…Greer knows that The Machine is dead, your so called communication with it is of no use to him now…" she added, in a much softer tone.

Shaw closed her eyes momentarily because Root's imposing, wounded and desperate energy was clouding her ability. Shaw didn't see this as a choice, she saw this as an opportunity she simply couldn't refuse, but Root was making this harder than Shaw could have ever imagined. Shaw decided to ignore Root once again, so she turned around and approached John, leaving Root rejected and heartbroken.

"I'm gonna need your help…" said Shaw, but when John raised an inquisitive brow she added "We get back in both cars, just like we were and when we're within range of the cameras, we put on a good show. We will have to make it look like there was a struggle and you escaped."

"No Sameen…." protested Root from behind Shaw. "It won't work.."

Shaw turned her head back a little. "Its gonna have to.." she replied through gritted teeth.

Glancing at John once again, Shaw asked "So will you help?"

John's face twisted into a deep frown as he glanced from Shaw to Root. He had assessed Shaw's plan in his usual practical, military manner and he knew that the chances of its success were slim, but John's loyalties had always been with Shaw. He thought about how much she had given up on the day of the Stock Exchange and how much she was giving up now and in the end his decision was simple.

John nodded confidently. "Let's do it."

Root seethed with anger, pushing past Shaw, she pounded her fist into John's chest. "You're helping her? She's gonna get herself killed!" she shouted

" _Root_ …" said Shaw as she exhaled a deep, resigned breath. "Please stop" she added softly

Shaw's unusually sensitive tone attracted Root's attention, instantly. When Root's frightened and tearful gaze met Shaw, Shaw took hold of Root's elbows tenderly and gazed into her eyes assertively, despite the emotional chaos inside her.

"I've spent my whole life chasing other people's ghosts. This is a chance to finally chase mine. I need to do this "explained Shaw whilst her eyes eagerly search Root for some sign of acceptance and understanding. "I am asking you to let me do this."

The physical contact and Shaw's emotional appeal was starting to soften Root's resolve and despite all her instincts and desire to fight it, Root felt herself giving in.

"Let me come with you…" she said in a voice that lacked any persuasion or self-conviction. " I can help."

Shaw shook her head in disagreement. "No Root. You're needed here. You have to help Finch rebuild The Machine. Finch needs you and you need _her_."

Root's brown eyes suddenly broke contact with Shaw, as for the first time this evening she thought about The Machine and Finch. It was also the first time she had thought about their situation logically and practically.

The tension in Root's body finally eased as she gave up on her emotional struggles. When Root looked back up at Shaw her eyes were calm but hurt. A bittersweet smile emerged on her face. "But I only just got you back."

Shaw's only response was to lighten the mood, for both of them. She smiled and her fingers gave Root's arms a tender, reassuring squeeze. "I'll be back again…" she replied with a wink.

Root smiled half-heartedly with a pained, serious but hopeful glint in her eyes. "Someday, huh?" she whispered.

 _Dammit Root!_ That look in Root's eyes tugged at Shaw's heartstrings more than anything ever did, more than anything ever could. An uncharacteristically caring and tender gleam reflected in Shaw's eyes as she observed Root. Then, she wiped away a stray tear on Root's cheek.

"Someday soon…." she whispered, her eyes as serious and as hopeful as Root's.

"Shaw…we should get going…" instructed John his voice soft and apologetic

John's interruption gave Shaw the wake-up call she needed and she finally walked away from Root. She stole a few seconds of peace in the shadows before finally approaching John.

"What's the plan?" asked John when he noted Shaw's business-like expression

With a heavy sigh, Shaw addressed all her friends, speaking in a purposeful, hurried tone. "In about ten miles we should be under Samaritan's watch once again. At this point John and I will try to make it look like there's a struggle inside our SUV. Then I'll jump out of the car and hope that it looks like John forced me out."

Whilst Shaw paused to let everyone absorb the information, John assessed Root's emotional condition with a silent and detailed observation. She stood with her arms wrapped around her body and her gaze, although totally fixed on Shaw, was completely blank. John knew how useful Root could be in these situations, but right now she looked like a ghost. He found himself questioning Root's ability to aid in tonight's escape.

"Finch, I think you better drive your SUV" said John.

Shaw nodded her agreement "And don't stop for any reason. Once Samaritan sees your escape; you will have a lot of operatives on your tail"

Finch stared at Shaw for a brief moment, the uncertainty in his ability to pull of his assigned task clearly evident in his eyes. Despite this, he simply said "I understand"

"Good" said Shaw "Once I'm out of the car, you follow this road as fast as you can until it splits. One way leads to an old underground bunker where Greer's waiting for us and the other is your way out"

Finch appeared worried "But how will we know which route to take?"

Shaw and John exchanged a knowing gaze "John will know, so stay close" she gazed sadly at Finch before she continued "Once you're out of the woods, use the shadow map to change cars and get to the motel I marked on the map. After that you're gonna have to find a way to lay low, at least for a short while"

Knowing that John wouldn't have problems keeping up with the proposed plan, Shaw fixed her inquisitive gaze at Finch and Root. "Everyone catch that?"

Finch nodded in response, despite his nervous disposition. Root, however, remained silent, causing Shaw to glare at her with a stern expression.

The summary of the plan only reminded Root of the dangers it entailed for Shaw and that was even before she got back to Greer. All of Root's instincts told her that this mission was going to get Shaw killed and she couldn't bring herself to enthusiastically assist in Shaw's death. In truth, she wanted to throw another tantrum but Shaw's earlier plea and the fact that they had to get out of here, meant that she had no choice but to participate in this mission.

"Do we have any weapons?" asked Root in a somber but factual tone.

Shaw felt a brief sense of relief, despite knowing that Root's apparent mental stability is short term. "Just the ones you can find on the operatives in the back" she explained as she pointed towards the back of the SUV.

In silence, Root walked past all her friends and opened the back passenger door of the second SUV. Pointing to the unconscious operatives, she said, "I'll throw these guys out later. It might help to.." she paused abruptly and her blazing eyes met Shaw. "Sell your story..."

However Root's anger did nothing to melt Shaw's determination, who directed only a brief, cold glance at Root. Unable to handle her overwhelming emotions, Root climbed into the car and slammed the door shut.

Finch directed an apologetic gaze towards Shaw "Good luck Miss Shaw, I hope you find what you're looking for"

"Thanks Harold…" smiled Shaw softly, despite the sadness she felt. " "Take care of her" she added with a painful tinge in her voice.

Minutes later John and Finch drove their respective SUV's through the dark and snowy woods. So far, Finch drove steadily, closely following John. The only distraction had been Root. She had climbed all over the car to recover all the possible ammunition she could find, gathering most of it from the two unconscious Samaritan operatives. Ordinarily an angry Root with a gun would make Finch nervous, but tonight he hoped that having the guns to take care of would help Root take her mind of Shaw.

"We're here" Root's soft whisper startled Finch from his thoughts. At first he couldn't understand her reference, but a closer inspection of their surroundings alerted him to the presence of multiple cameras on almost every tree they passed. His hands tightened on the wheel and both he and Root fixed their attention on the SUV in front of them, their eyes eager and alert.

As expected John's SUV began to swerve wildly and despite his nerves Finch did his best to stay close behind. Suddenly, Root leaned forward from her front passenger seat and pulled the wheel sharply from Finch's grasp, causing them to swerve severely.

"You're too careful" explained Root "We're trying to escape, remember?"

Finch maneuvered the large SUV back onto a smooth road and made a mental note to do an intentional sharp turn every now and again. As they caught up with John, Root decided that now was as good time as any to get rid of the Samaritan operatives in the back. She opened the back door, leaned back on one of the unconscious agents still in the backseat and used her legs to push the other agent out of the open doorway. She repeated the process with the second operative and closed the door of the SUV just in time for one of Finch's intentional swerves.

As Root reclaimed her position in the front seat, a loud gunshot rattled through the glass on the back of John's SUV, causing both Finch and Root to hold their breath with worry and anticipation. Then, the passenger door of John's SUV opened and Shaw's body flew out of the car, landing on the icy road in front of them with a resounding thump.

Finch swerved hard to avoid driving over Shaw, feeling grateful for the swerving practice he received earlier. Meanwhile, Root jumped to the backseat window, eagerly searching for Shaw's appearance on the road behind them. When she spotted Shaw again, instinctively her hand reached out to touch Shaw's outline on the glass and she waited with baited breath for some indication of life. As minutes passed, and Shaw continued to lay motionless on the ice, Root knew that her fears had become reality.

Sighing heavily, she let the tears fall freely as she bid Shaw a silent goodbye, forever.


	6. Chapter 6: That was a mistake

_Once again a huge thanks to everyone for reading and following. Also an extra-huge thanks to those of you who commented on the previous chapter, your comments made me smile for days! Enjoy the next chapter!_

 **CHAPTER SIX: That was a mistake**

John sat in an old, worn-out armchair, positioned between the main door and the only window in a semi-lit, shabby motel room. A gun rested on his lap and he took occasional glances through the window. In theory, this was a good chance to get some rest but the escape from the woods had been tough, on all of them. Observing Finch and Root in front of him, John realized that just like him, they were on edge.

On the twin-bed furthest away from John, lay Root. John wasn't sure if she had managed to get any sleep in the eight hours they've been here, but right now she lay facing him with that ghostly, far-away look on her face. Meanwhile Finch sat upright in the second twin-bed, his attention focused on frustratingly flicking through the mute TV channels.

Although they were not in immediate danger, John couldn't shake the feeling that their lucky escape from Samaritan was not yet complete. In part this was due to the nature of this motel. Shaw did a good job picking this place because nobody here asked questions but, it was obvious that most of New York's wanted criminals were hibernating here. The other thing that made John uncomfortable was the motel manager. Arriving here after hours of being chased and with no money, John had no choice but to use his detective's badge to negotiate a room for "police business". Since it was getting late in the day, and they still had no cash to pay up, John knew that it was only a matter of time before the manager called the real police.

Finch didn't get much sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt the ricochet of a million bullets in every nerve of his body. Seconds after they had lost Shaw in the woods, several Samaritan operatives joined their tail, chasing them all the way through to the city streets. Bullets flew from all directions and although Root did her best to retaliate, she was out of ammo before they even left the woods. At this point their escape rested only on Finch's driving. As he thought about it, he couldn't understand how he had held his nerve through it all.

It felt like hours before they made it to the city. The lack of snow on the city roads made steering the SUV a little easier, but the traffic provided too many obstacles. When they had finally lost the last Samaritan truck on their tail, John indicated left and they pulled into an abandoned, run-down parking lot. It was there that they managed to change cars, with John stealing some beaten up old Chevy. Root had offered to drive, giving John and Finch some much needed rest.

A soft but sudden knock awoke John and Finch from their mundane thoughts. John took a small peak through the window. On opening the door, John found an angry and tired Fusco holding a black plastic bag in each hand.

"Get in!" whispered John through gritted teeth. He pulled Fusco inside and scanned the surroundings outside. "What took you so long? I called you this morning?!" he added sternly.

Once back indoors, John bolted the door and tucked the gun into the back of his pants.

"Hey, take it easy pal!" shouted Fusco in protest to being manhandled "It took hours to drive out here and I have a day job!"

Finch jumped off the bed upon Fusco's entry into the room. "Detective Fusco, please ignore John.." said Finch eagerly whilst helping Fusco maneuver the two black bags into an empty space . "We've been cooped up in here all day, he's just tired and on edge…."

Finch opened one of Fusco's bags and upon finding it packed with guns, he dejectedly resumed his earlier position on the bed.

"We have no money, no transport and no ammo…so excuse me for being on edge" explained John. Turning to Fusco he added "Did you bring everything?"

"Yeah yeah…" Fusco took out a white paper envelope from his pocket and threw it at John. "Keep your pants on! Here's the money, the guns and clothes are in the bag.."

John scanned the notes inside the envelope "Good. I'm going to pay the manager before he comes round here again and I'll get us some food…." he paused as his eyes met Fusco again "Watch them, until I come back..

As John left, Fusco turned about the room, hoping to find a comfortable seat but instead he found Root. She continued to lay still, in a ghost-like trance, much the same way she had been when John observed her. The blank expression in her eyes unnerved Fusco.

Fusco turned to Finch with a frown. "What's up with Coco Puffs?"

Finch observed Root with a concerned expression. "She's just tired. She needs rest, that's all…" he explained in a faltering tone, uncertain of his own words.

After a brief and awkward silence, Fusco turned to Finch once again. "So is it true?" he whispered as he thrust his hands in his pockets. "John told me that Shaw's alive?"

Whilst Finch struggled to formulate a suitable reply, Root lifted her head and sat up in bed. "Shaw was alive.." she replied in a resigned tone, her sad eyes staring into the abyss. Fusco frowned in confusion but Root's pensive expression suggested she had more to say, so both men remained silent.

"Lionel.." asked Root in a suddenly cheerful and perky voice "What are your plans for the rest of the evening?"

Fusco shrugged casually. "Get home and get some sleep.." he replied, but as soon as he noted Root's sparkly gaze and her big pleading smile, he let out a frustrated sigh. "..But something tells me that's not gonna happen.."

Finch recognized that familiar glint in Root's eye and although he was pleased to see something that reminded him of the "normal Root", he was nervous about her upcoming plan. Without The Machine, her plan was just the plan of another human being, a plan that was fallible.

Finch prepared himself for the worst as Root's determined stare finally met his. "Lionel has to get _her_ , tonight" said Root confidently.

The reference to The Machine startled Finch, psychologically. In truth, he hadn't given it much thought, partly because they've been so busy and partly because he couldn't really comprehend the process involved in The Machine's recovery.

"No!" said Finch "It's too soon and it's too dangerous"

Root stood up, her fiery gaze eager and defiant "She will get damaged the longer we leave her there" she paused and her gaze flickered to Fusco briefly, before returning to Finch. "Besides, they're not after Lionel…"

"Miss Groves.." said Finch through gritted teeth "Need I remind you of what we've been through today? Need I remind you of the sacrifices that were made for The Machine? Haven't you learnt anything from this?" he paused to inhale an exasperated breath "The probability of recovering The Machine from that briefcase is very small. I am not willing to risk another life for it."

"I'm disappointed in you, Harold…" answered Root in a subdued tone, but the spark in her eye was still evident. "How can you not see that the recovery of The Machine is _everything_? It's everything we've been fighting for. We have to rescue her! ….for Shaw, for the people of this country…..for us!" she pleaded, her voice full of confidence and belief "Without The Machine we will never be rid of Samaritan…..We can't hide in motel rooms forever, Harold.."

Much to Finch's disdain, he couldn't find a sufficient retort to Root's argument. "Even if we were to find it, what are we to do with it here?" he asked frustratingly whilst pointing to their sub-class motel room.

Observing the room, Root realized that Finch made a valid point. As she began to think about the equipment they would need to work on The Machine, a simple solution occurred to her. Root shrugged with a smile "So we go back to the subway."

"Go back to the subw-"Finch inhaled another exasperated breath "We're supposed to be in hiding, remember?"

Root laughed "Harry, we're in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the country's greatest criminals and two bags of guns! The subway is private, in the middle of a busy New York street and nobody knows it exists!"

This time, it was Finch who was determined and defiant "I wouldn't be so sure about that!" he replied quickly. As Root frowned, Finch proceeded to explain "For all we know, Shaw could have given the location of the subway to Greer!"

Almost instantly, Root's body tensed. She raised her chin and that destructive rage that Finch saw when she was hunting for Shaw in the woods, was back in her eyes. Clenching her fists she stepped up to Finch, her eyes threatening and angry. However Finch did not appear intimidated by her reaction, if anything he had been expecting it.

Although Fusco had no idea what was going on, he stepped in to break up the stand- off. "Whoaa, how about we just cool it a bit, yeah?" He grabbed hold of Root's arm softly and guided her backwards.

Fusco's interruption had cooled Root's impulses and she relaxed a little. "Shaw would never do that" she said finally, her gaze just as confident as Finch's. "I'm going to forget that you ever said that.."

"May I remind you Miss Groves, that it wasn't so long ago that you believed that she was going to kill us."

Root's eyes dropped to the ground suddenly and she spoke softly, nostalgically and regretfully. "That was a mistake.."

Finch sighed heavily, feeling guilty for reminding Root of the recent events. "Miss Groves, all I was trying to say is that we don't know what Shaw had to do or say to get back to Greer…"

"Shaw is dead…" said Root coldly, her broken, pained eyes meeting Finch once again. "And I'd appreciate it if we never spoke about this again.."

"Wait, what?" Fusco frowned "Shaw's dead, _again_?"

John walked back into the room before anyone had a chance to answer Fusco. John placed a large paper bag he'd been holding onto his armchair. "This was all I could find in this dammed place.." he said irritatingly, absorbed in his frustrations. Oblivious to the three people before him, John took out some sandwiches from the paper bag and threw one at each of his friends. "Come on eat up. We need to get out of here soon.."

"Great! We're leaving.." said Root excitedly whilst keeping one eye on Finch.

Root's voice interrupted John's thoughts and he finally paused to observe his friends. "What's going on?" he asked as he observed Root's animated expression with a deep frown.

"Dammed if I know" replied Fusco and eagerly bit into his sandwich.

"Harold and I were just talking about leaving, weren't we Harry?.." said Root whilst her eyes urged Finch to provide the rest of explanation that John was seeking.

Examining his sandwich, Finch decided that talking was better than eating "Miss Groves wants Detective Fusco to retrieve the briefcase tonight. She also thinks that we should return to the subway to start working on The Machine.."

Root smiled softly as she watched John theoretically calculate the outcome of her proposal. She devoured her food enthusiastically whilst keeping a close eye on John's expression. "The sooner we rescue her from the water, the more chance she has at life…" she added when she sensed John struggling to make a decision.

Finch sighed with irritation, but decided against arguing with Root again. Instead he proceeded to fight with the packaging on his sandwich.

John finished eating. His gaze met Finch and his expression suggested that he was done thinking. "I hate to admit it Finch, but I think Root has a point." He paused to take out a water bottle from the large paper bag. "Sooner or later we would need to go back. If it means your Machine could work again, I say we return to the subway."

Despite Finch's doubts and his trepidation regarding the proposed plan, Finch respected the views of his friends. A brief glance at Root's eager smile and John's supportive gaze, gave Finch the drive that he was lacking and he sighed deeply. Dropping the remainder of his sandwich, Finch turned to Fusco and waited until the detective finished up the last remnants of his food.

"Detective Fusco, please sit down." said Finch with a stern and purposeful tone "Its time …..that you knew everything.."


	7. Chapter 7: So what's the mission?

_I've recently found myself in the world of writers block and have been stuck on one of the few upcoming chapters for quite sometime. But thanks to your encouraging comments_ _I've finally managed to get unstuck. So to celebrate I'm posting Chapter 7 earlier than planned. As usual, thanks for reading, following and commenting._

 **CHAPTER SEVEN: So what's the mission?**

It was extremely cold. Shaking uncontrollably, Shaw suppressed the urge to collapse into the soft snow and fall asleep. Fighting a tough mental battle with her brain, she willed each foot to step in front of the other because Greer's bunker was finally in sight. She had to reach it before the cold crippled her completely.

As she passed through the outer perimeter of the bunker, she was surprised to find that the few Samaritan operatives patrolling it did not reach for their weapons. This spurred her enthusiasm and she increased her pace until she reached the entrance to the bunker itself. Just as Shaw's hand gripped the door handle, she heard an unmistakable click of a gun, primed and ready for use.

"You must have a death wish" spoke a familiar male voice behind her.

Slowly, Shaw turned about to face her attacker. "Lambert…." she mumbled through gritted teeth, her breath visible in the night air. Staring into the barrel of the gun, she wondered if she would feel the pain from the gunshot, given how numb she was.

"I told Greer that you were a traitor!" shouted Lambert. "But he wouldn't listen to me!"

Shaw shrugged. "What can I say? I guess I just have a trusting face…"

Lambert's anger reached its boiling point and his fingers squeezed around the trigger. The bullet hit Shaw's abdomen with a piercing thud...

Shaw awoke with a painful jolt, desperately gasping for air. Sweat poured down her face and her heart was racing. She forced herself to focus on breathing, her medical training alerting her that she was on a verge of a panic attack. The memories of that damn night just wouldn't leave her mind.

As her breathing slowed, Shaw realized that she was sitting on the floor of the same sterile grey room that had been her prison for the past week. The dim light illuminated the only furniture in the room; a metal steel table and chairs. As the usual wave of shivers swept over her, Shaw remembered another part of her reality. She lifted up her shirt and examined the wound in her lower left abdomen. It was infected and the infection was spreading. _Damn Lambert, I'm going to kill you the first chance I get!_

She forced herself to think positive. She could have been dead that night, but Greer had intervened before Lambert got a chance to finish her. She smiled as she remembered the look on Lambert's face when Greer came to her aid. Greer needed her and that meant that she might just get a chance to see her mother's file. She just hoped that Greer would need her soon because the infection raging through her body was going to end her within a couple of days, max.

The heavy metal door made its usual scraping sound. Shaw frowned, the guy who bought her food and water didn't usually come this early. She eyed the entrance impatiently, wondering what hell was coming for her next.

Dressed in his customary immaculate suit, Greer emerged into the room, closely followed by Lambert. Lambert, held a large green bag in one hand and a gun in the other. _At least he's not pointing it at me, well not yet anyway…_

Since Greer and Lambert stood in the center of the room, the dim light above highlighted Greer's strained expression. Shaw couldn't help but feel a little jolt of triumph at the troubled look on her enemy's face.

"Wow, you look like crap.." she said to Greer with her best made-up smile. "Things must be bad if you're _here._."

Greer's expression remained business-like, but at the corner of her eye Shaw noticed how Lambert re-adjusted the grip on his gun. With a short nod at Lambert, Shaw added "Careful, he might shoot _you_ this time"

The bulging vessels in Lambert's neck suggested that he didn't appreciate Shaw's disobedient behaviour. In a controlled, but threatening manner he pointed the gun at Shaw's head. Shaw, however, stared back with a defiant and slightly bemused gaze, as if daring him to shoot her.

Greer sighed frustratingly, fed up of Lambert's uncontrolled outbursts. "Mr Lambert, put the gun down."

Lambert's eyes shifted between Shaw and Greer several times before he finally lowered the gun.

During the short silence that followed, Greer's gaze scanned Shaw's body, methodically, finally settling on the blood covering her entire midriff. Then he clicked his fingers and motioned to the bag in Lambert's hand. Reluctantly, Lambert threw the bag in Shaw's direction.

"I trust that you still remember what to do with that" said Greer with a hint of mockery in his voice.

Shaw unzipped the bag with shaking, blood covered hands. She scanned the medical supplies inside it. "Gee, thanks" she replied scornfully. Placing the bag aside, she met Greer's gaze. "So, does this mean you believe me now?"

Greer thrust his hands into his pant pockets and appeared in deep thought for a short minute before answering. "We've reviewed the footage multiple times. Samaritan's calculations suggest that you couldn't have aided in the escape of your former friends." he explained, but his voice lacked its usual self-conviction.

Shaw's gaze fell to the floor as she attempted to hide her surprise from Greer. It blew her mind that somehow she had managed to fool Samaritan, but she would think about this later.

"Sounds like you're not convinced?" she said in what she hoped was a neutral tone.

Having remained silent since his earlier outburst, Lambert's patience was wearing thin. Feeling fed up of having to hold his opinions, he answered Shaw before Greer could. "I know that you betrayed us and as soon Samaritan is working again I'll prove it!" he shouted irritatingly.

Greer's incredulous, brutal gaze met Lambert inches away from his face "Get out!" he ordered.

This time Lambert didn't hesitate. He made a hasty exit but his angry eyes lingered on Shaw long enough to promise her that sooner or later, he was going to get her. Meanwhile, Shaw suppressed her desire to punch the air in celebration and instead concentrated on Greer's unusually stressed expression.

"Oh _I am_ disappointed…" she teased, far too happy to hide her joy. Besides there was no point, Greer knew where she stood. "Greer, are you actually questioning Samaritan?" she added.

Greer's body was still facing the exit, staring after Lambert in contemplative silence. The prominent twitch on the side of his forehead reassured Shaw that, not only had he heard her but that she was irritating him more than he would like.

Collecting himself with a confident intake of breath, Greer finally turned to face Shaw. "Actually, I have every faith in you Sameen, which is why I'm giving you a new mission. Think of it as a chance to redeem yourself after your blunder in the woods. "

Shaw waved a hand, cutting into Greer's speech and irritating him in the process. "In case you haven't noticed…..I only have time for one mission.." she said in between heavy breaths as she adjusted her sitting position. "Since this is my last rodeo, I want a hefty reward. So unless you came here to offer me what I want, you might as well shoot me right now."

His eyes narrowed as if he recognized something in Shaw's determined glare. "The file.." he whispered eagerly as if finally remembering that such a thing existed. "Very well. You will get the file after the mission…" he added confidently.

In attempt to hide the emerging smile on her face, Shaw's gaze dropped to her wound.

"So what's the mission?" she asked after she regained her composure, looking up at Greer once again.

"I want you to take me to the base. The headquarters. The center of Finch's operation. The origin of The Machine…" he explained proudly and when his eyes settled on Shaw's puzzled frown, he smiled smugly.

"Why? Finch won't be there…"

With that conniving smile still plastered on his face, Greer stuffed one hand into his pocket and made a leisurely short walk towards the exit. "Just concentrate on getting well, Sameen…." he said as his other hand pointed to the medical bag beside Shaw.

At the door, Greer paused and silently admired Shaw's confused expression once again, before making a swift exit out of the room.

As the steel doors locked shut, Shaw relaxed with a heavy sigh, causing the back of her head to rest on the wall behind her. Greer's unexpected appearance had caused her body to flood with adrenaline which masked the majority of her pain. Now that she was calm, the pain was making a comeback, the blood from her wound was flowing like a river and the heat from her fever was clouding her ability to think.

She focused her mind on her next mission; take Greer to the subway. Every nerve in her body fought against the idea. It was the ultimate betrayal and it wouldn't help in the fight against Samaritan. But she was dying and if there was ever a time to know the truth...

 _PS: A bit of experimenting here on my part, with the flashback...so I hope that made sense..._


	8. Chapter 8: I need to fix her

_Thanks for reading and commenting... I promise updates on this will be more regular once I'm done writing it. Here's my take on post-Samaritan, Machine...hope you enjoy..._

 **CHAPTER EIGHT: I need to fix her**

Back at the subway, Finch and Reese hunched over a file in John's hands. Since Detective Fusco was familiar with the contents of the file, he occupied his time with unpacking several takeout boxes of Chinese food onto Finch's work table, much to Finch's disdain. Momentarily, Finch raised his head to reprimand Fusco, but his mind had long ago been captured by the stimulating information in John's file, so he turned his attention back to reading.

"Nice one Lionel.." said John excitedly "This Melissa Davenport is our best bet. She's the only resident in the apartment building with a criminal history."

Finch scowled. "Mr Reese, the charges against Miss Davenport were dropped. That hardly constitutes a criminal history" explained Finch in a forceful tone as if teaching an uninterested and disobedient student.

Fusco's dinner arrangements attracted Bear, who meandered under the table whilst sniffing the air inquisitively. Identifying the smell as food, Bear sat down and eyed Fusco pleadingly.

"She was accused of beating her boyfriend." explained John frustratingly "Whether that was in self-defence or not, is not the point right now Finch. This kind of history has a way of catching up with you."

Finch was about to voice his reply but was once again distracted by Fusco. The Detective was emptying one of the takeout boxes into Bear's bowl.

"Detective Fusco!" scolded Finch "Bear has already eaten"

"Yeah, you tell him that when he's looking at you with those puppy dog eyes"

Suddenly, the unexpected sound of high pitched footsteps set all the men on high alert. Fusco reached for his gun but when Root emerged from the shadows seconds later, he was almost disappointed he couldn't use it.

"Come on kids…." she said in that cheery tone of hers as her eyes scanned Fusco. "Play nice"

She dumped a black sports bag on the floor with a tired sigh. Then she removed her gloves and jacket slowly, taking care to arrange each garment neatly, stacking them on top of Finch's wooden bench.

"Miss Groves.." began Finch, his voice mixed with relief, mild excitement and irritation "Would you mind telling us where you've been lately?"

Root shrugged casually, a soft smile on her face. "Relax Harold, I just went on a little errand.."

Finch exhaled an irritated breath "You can't just disappear for days on some mysterious errand…" he scolded.

Root ignored Finch's disciplinary speech and walked over to Fusco's dinner table, examining its contents suspiciously. Meanwhile, Fusco unzipped Root's sports bag and dumped it in the center of the room where Finch and John were also able to examine its contents. "Must be at least a couple of hundred thousand" said Fusco in amazement, having never been in possession of such a large sum of money.

"Actually its seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars" corrected Root with a proud smile. Sitting on the corner of the table she hugged a white takeout box in her hands and eagerly tucked into a few consecutive scoops of rice, chewing it enthusiastically.

John shrugged whilst looking at the bag. "Well, we need money" he said, but received a silent reprimand from Finch.

As Finch observed Root in pensive silence he wondered whether the acquisition of stolen money was Root's only endeavour during her time away. Root hadn't mentioned Shaw or Samaritan, since the day they argued in the motel. He had a suspicion that she was hurting more than she was letting on and he wished that she would stop running away. Finch decided to change tact, hoping that his latest news would settle her down close by, so that he could keep an eye on her.

Root watched Finch tentatively from beneath her food container. His deep frown and uncomfortable shifting was making her nervous. "Something on your mind Harry?"

"Miss Groves, I know that this may seem like a strange question but…" began Finch in a faltering tone. "Did The Machine instruct you to go on your errands?"

Root scowled, but as her eyes held Finch's somewhat informative gaze, the deeper meaning of his question finally clicked into place. Root's eyes lit up excitedly "She's back, isn't she?"

"Not quite" replied Finch quickly. "But The Machine has given us a number"

Finch's ominous aura advised Root to accept the latest news with some caution and when she noticed a bored Fusco cleaning his tie, she turned her attention to her food box and sighed tediously. "Just tell me what's wrong with her, Harold?" she demanded in an irritated tone.

Finch's reply was tentative and he averted his gaze uncomfortably. "The Machine has given us GPS co-ordinates, not a social security number."

Root stopped chewing her food abruptly as her mind raced through the possible meanings of Finch's news.

"The latest GPS location from The Machine corresponds to an apartment block in Queens, with about thirty permanent residents…" cut in John, speaking from beneath his folder. His eyes looked up when he felt Root's attention on him. "Fusco and I spent the past three nights watching the place…..to find out who might need help.." he added in attempt to remove Root's dubious expression.

"But it's hard to know who is in danger….plenty of people coming in and out of that place." explained Fusco with a mouth full of noodles.

John nodded in agreement. "So Fusco ran a background check on all the residents" he lifted the file in his hands to illustrate his point "and Melissa Davenport is the only resident with a criminal past."

"So you think she could be the irrelevant number?" asked Root

John shrugged "I think she's a place to start"

Finch awaited Root's reply with baited breath, worried as to how this was going to affect her but she simply finished the remnants of her food box in a tense contemplative silence.

"Well gentlemen, it's been a pleasure.." she said as she jumped off the food table, her tone not as perky as it was upon her arrival. "Thanks for dinner.."

She walked back to the bench and put on her gloves and jacket. Then she picked up her sports bag and turned to Finch. "Unfortunately I have to go….."

Finch, Fusco and John exchanged alarming glances. "What, that's it? After all that, you're just gonna leave?" asked Fusco with a scowl.

The accusatory nature of Fusco's tone, didn't impress Root. "Yes Lionel, I am leaving…" answered Root curtly, irritated anger reflecting in her eyes even from a long distance. " _She_ needs looking after and I need to be there for her…" she added in a calmer but sombre tone.

"Miss Groves, The Machine is speaking to us…" pleaded Finch whilst taking several steps towards Root. "It has given us instructions. Isn't that what you've done your whole existence, blindly follow The Machine's instructions?"

Root shook her head vigorously, unafraid to show her disagreement. "You didn't design her to work this way, these co-ordinates are just a symptom of her struggle for recovery…" she explained forcefully, her eyes sad and distant.

"The Machine has given us information; surely it is our duty to determine if that information is real?.." replied Finch frustratingly. "It is the only way to aid The Machine's revival."

"Maybe…" whispered Root whilst chewing her lip thoughtfully. Then her gaze met Finch and the heartbroken, pained reflection in them tore into his soul.

"But I can't help you with this Harold.." she added speaking more hurriedly now, her emotions taking hold of her. "I can't waste my time with this when I still don't know if Shaw is –"

She closed her eyes as tears threatened to escape them. Finch placed a soft hand on Root's arm, but she pulled away. "I have to take care of her. I _need_ to fix her." She paused pensively and a bittersweet smile appeared on her face. "Now that we have the money, I'm going to get her what she needs…"

John interrupted the short silence that followed, with his heavy footsteps. On arrival, he placed a soft hand on Finch's shoulder. "Let her go Finch.." he said and in reply to Finch's puzzled look John added "It might be good for us to spread our wings a little. You work on The Machine your way and Root does it her way. We could use a plan B…"

Root gave a brief smile of appreciation to John, picked up her bag and walked towards the exit. Finch watched Root's departure with a deeply worried and saddened expression, unsure if he was making the right decision by letting her go.

"What if The Machine is correct?" shouted Finch, his tone more subdued but persuasive. Root stopped abruptly and half-turned towards Finch. "What if Melissa Davenport really is in danger?"

"Then I'm sure the three of you can handle it."


	9. Chapter 9: I need to get home

_As always thanks for reading and commenting...Hope you enjoy the next one.. :)_

 **CHAPTER NINE: I need to get home**

After days of rolling about on the floor, Shaw had decided she needed a change of scenery. Slowly but surely she relocated to the table that dominated the center of her prison. Sitting on the chair with her elbows resting on the table and her arms extended, she watched tiredly as the few remaining drops of antibiotics entered her veins. She closed her eyes to block out the little light there was in the room, but it was hopeless. Her head was still spinning, she was cold and it was getting harder and harder to breathe. _I guess this is it, the drugs aren't working anymore._

Shaw tipped over the remaining contents of the medical bag onto the table in front of her with a soft, bored sigh. Despite going through it several times before, she rummaged through the supplies, mostly to kill time. Absentmindedly she picked up a syringe and needle and her hands played with the medical implements aimlessly while her mind wondered about Greer's mission. Now that all this time had passed, it's highly likely that Finch could be back at the subway, which meant that going through with Greer's mission wasn't an option. _So what's the alternative?_

The heavy sliding doors to Shaw's prison made an unexpected noise. Sluggishly, Shaw raised her head. Then her angry and confrontational gaze settled on the door and she waited patiently for the identity of her intruder.

Greer emerged in the doorway wearing his expensive suit and characteristic poker face. He scanned the room quickly. "Oh good, you're feeling better." he said in a smug tone.

Shaw blocked out Greer's voice as her eyes scanned the scene behind him with a surprising scowl. _Greer is alone. No guard at the door. No sign of Lambert either….hmmmm_

Shaw raised an eyebrow and directed her best smile at Greer. "Running a little low on help?" she asked mockingly whilst her eyes shifted to the empty doorway. Shaw wondered if the situation with Samaritan was the cause of Greer's staffing shortages.

A brief smile of appreciation appeared at the corner of Greer's mouth "I sometimes forget how good of an agent you were Sameen. I've always been a fan of yours."

Shaw exhaled with annoyance. "I assume you didn't just come in here for a cozy chat?"

"You're right…let's get down to business. It's time to get to work Sameen." Greer's hands emerged from his pockets and he dangled a set of handcuffs from the tip of his finger.

Shaw cursed silently. It was time for the mission. Greer's mission. She wasn't ready. She was too tired and unwell but mostly she had no idea how to avoid the subway. She closed her eyes to steady her spinning head and calm her raging thoughts. _I'm sorry Harold….._

Shaw exhaled a heavy breath and proceeded to remove the makeshift antibiotic drip attached to her arm. Casually her eyes scanned all the medical supplies scattered around the table and that's when she saw it. Among all the junk laid a syringe, fully functional and fully loaded with air.

Suddenly the thoughts in Shaw's mind clicked into place and she not only saw a weapon but an escape plan. She felt a sudden surge of adrenaline flush through her body and she fought hard to hide the smile threatening to emerge on her face.

Shaw took a mental snapshot of the position of the syringe on the table. Then she stood up slowly and clasped her wrists together to emulate her compliance with being handcuffed. Greer's eyes danced about her face in silent ridicule but Shaw received his mockery with a raised chin and a cold, hard stare.

Greer snickered smugly before walking several steps forward. As soon as he was within easy reach, Shaw punched his nose with all the aggression she had accumulated during the course of her imprisonment. Greer stumbled back, holding his bleeding nose with both hands. Shaw grabbed the syringe and jumped behind him in a couple of quick steps. She wrapped her free arm around Greer's neck to keep him secure, whilst her other hand smacked the syringe needle into the opposite side of his neck. Greer froze.

"I bet you're not a fan now" Shaw whispered proudly into Greer's ear. She paused to adjust her grip on him with her free hand. Then she noticed the handcuffs on the table in front of them. "Just so we're clear, I've got air and it will take me less than a second to push it into your veins. Now walk….. Towards the table."

Greer shuffled forward in tentative steps, his eyes permanently fixed to the left in an attempt to get a glimpse of the syringe in his neck. "Put the cuffs on.." instructed Shaw roughly when they reached the table.

Reluctantly Greer secured the handcuffs over his hands. "You know Samaritan is watching you. This place will be crawling with agents any minute" he mumbled.

Shaw clenched her jaws as she considered her options. She couldn't deny that Greer made a valid point. Allegedly, Samaritan was broken but she had no idea what that really meant and whether its Big Brother capabilities were still functional.

Shaw winced momentarily as she felt a few stitches on her wound pop open. Briefly she wondered if she was even going to make it out of this room. She was well aware of the fact that she couldn't take on a war with Samaritan in her condition, despite all the adrenaline flowing through her system. Nevertheless this was the only way to protect Finch so this is the way it has to be.

"That's okay.." she replied fearlessly. "I love a challenge.."

As Shaw wondered about the forthcoming stages in her escape plan, only one thing came to mind; the file. Chances were she wasn't going to make it out of here alive and this meant that she had to use this opportunity to learn the truth. She remembered being dragged through a computer room when she was shot by Lambert. It's possible that she had imagined that room, or confused it with another, but there was only one way to find out.

Cautiously, Shaw turned her body along with Greer's, to face the exit. "So here's the plan.." she said whilst staring into the abyss of the empty hallway from beneath Greer's shoulder. "We're gonna walk to your computer room and you're gonna show me that file.."

Greer scoffed "Samaritan is otherwise engaged…" he muttered "It doesn't have time for your nonsense.."

Shaw tightened her arm around Greer's neck. The old man bent backwards, his hands grabbed onto Shaw's arm mostly for support as his toes struggled to find their hold on the floor. "Shut up and walk!" instructed Shaw through gritted teeth.

Greer's inability to breathe normally and to properly see the floor from his awkwardly arched position in Shaw's grip, meant he took uneven, careful, short steps, making their walk to the computer room, rather long and tedious. However the pace suited Shaw, it limited the pressure she put on her assaulted body and it gave her time to survey the area, gather her bearings in case she actually made it to the escape part of her plan.

The computer room was painted black and a single light bulb, hanging low from the ceiling, provided the only source of light. The perimeter of the room consisted of multiple shelving units stuffed haphazardly with various discarded components of old computers. Dominating the center of the room was a long, solid, rectangular table, the entire surface of which made up a large touch screen computer interface. Currently the screen was white with only a short message displayed at the center in black lettering; "Good evening.."

Shaw and Greer stopped in front of the touch-screen table. Quickly, Shaw scanned the room for any rogue Samaritan operatives. She noticed another door at the far end of the room, north-west of their current position, but it was closed and the entrance behind them was clear. She nudged Greer in the back. "Get on your knees."

Greer's annoyance at having to struggle for every breath meant he complied with Shaw's request without protest. From his lower position Greer's handcuffed hands were able to rest on the touch screen table, providing easy access to the computer. It also provided some respite for Shaw, who was able to keep a hold on Greer without having to stretch her wounded midriff.

Just when Greer began to relax, Shaw pressed the syringe needle deeper into his neck. "Pull up the file and don't play dumb. You know what I'm after…" she demanded sternly.

Aware that he was out of options, Greer began typing.

Meanwhile, Shaw bit her lower lip in an attempt to absorb the pain that was oozing from her open wound. A brief glance at the wound suggested that it needed urgent intervention. While Greer's attention was occupied, Shaw released her grip around his neck, using that arm to press on her wound to limit the bleeding. She made a mental note, to resume her position as soon as Greer was done searching for the file, besides she still had a firm grip on the syringe. Greer wasn't going anywhere.

Silently Shaw willed Greer to hurry. She was struggling to breathe and her dizzy spells and blurred vision were making a quick comeback. She rubbed her eyes with her free, blood-covered hand and when she reopened them again the file was finally loaded, its contents covering the entire length and breadth of the touch-screen table.

Despite Shaw's impaired mental faculties, the words " _Project Orion_ " immediately caught her attention. The initial parts of the file contained her mother's biographical information and given that she was on a time limit, Shaw decided to skip the first couple of pages. Shaw's fixation with the file meant she had forgotten about Greer, so absentmindedly she stretched her hand to touch the screen, leaving the syringe in Greer's neck and Greer completely unguarded.

Greer noticed the lapse in Shaw's concentration instantly. Also his lower position in comparison to Shaw meant he had a full view of her blood stained abdomen. Suddenly, he knew exactly how to get away.

Greer swung his elbow directly into the epicenter of Shaw's open wound. Shaw screamed out in agony as both her hands wrapped around her midriff. She stumbled backwards and fell to her knees. Meanwhile, Greer rose to his feet and spun about angrily. Upon finding Shaw he pulled out the syringe in his neck and threw it to the floor with enough power to make the implement bounce several times before settling. Greer smiled calmly as he watched Shaw wobbling drunkenly on her knees, the blood from her abdomen seeping through her shaking hands like an overflowing river.

Then, Greer ran up to Shaw. The momentum from the run enabled him to swing his leg in the direction of her chest. However Shaw anticipated the kick and blocked it with both her hands, causing Greer to land behind her with a stumble. Greer's grunts motivated Shaw to get to her feet and scramble for a nearby weapon. She grabbed an old keyboard from a nearby shelf, held it with both hands and swung it across the back of Greer's head. Greer stumbled forward and fell into a shelf, causing all the computer equipment to fall on top of him.

Shaw waited with baited breath for any sign of movement, but Greer remained completely still. Shaw dumped the keyboard on the floor and collapsed to her knees in front of Greer. Running on autopilot, Shaw checked Greer's pulse. _The bastard is still alive._ Quickly, Shaw searched Greer's pockets, hoping to find a gun or a knife. Instead she found a flash drive, some keys and about fifty bucks in cash. She stuffed all the items into her pant pockets and made a slow attempt to get to her feet.

With both hands clasped over her wound, Shaw stumbled towards the touch-screen computer, but after only a few steps she noticed a figure standing at the southern entrance. She blinked frantically and wondered if her imagination was playing tricks on her, but when she heard the sound of several bullets flying past her she knew she was in trouble.

Shaw dived to the floor, rolled briefly and arrived at the northern side of the computer table. She crouched low as another onslaught of bullets flew in her direction. Then she cursed silently as she watched sparks of light fly into the air with every bullet that flew into the touch-screen table. Seconds later, the screen switched off and the room became almost completely dark.

An airy silence followed. The only thing Shaw could hear was the sound of heavy footsteps.

"It's just you and me now, Sameen..." announced the familiar irritating voice that Shaw knew to be Lambert's. "And Greer isn't gonna stop me this time... " he added merrily.

Shaw crawled around the table moving in the opposite direction to Lambert's footsteps. Eventually she arrived at the front of the table, the place where she and Greer fought earlier. She waited patiently for Lambert's next move and as she did so her eyes stumbled upon Greer's discarded syringe. Although it would require some effort to get it without revealing her position, Shaw knew she needed some kind of leverage if she were to fight Lambert in her condition.

Shaw figured she had a couple of seconds to hop closer to the syringe, grab it and return to cover. She inhaled a deep, preparatory breath and jumped. However her foot caught onto a cable and she landed flat on her front with a heavy thump. Also the pull on the cable caused several monitors and keyboards to fall the ground from the nearby shelves, alerting Lambert to her exact location.

Shaw had a decent idea of Lambert's position in relation to her own and she knew that Lambert had a clear shot. She closed her eyes and tensed her body, ready to take the bullets that would end it all. She heard Lambert press the trigger, but in response there was just an echoing click of an empty magazine. Lambert mumbled something Shaw couldn't hear threw the gun away and made a purposeful approach towards her.

Quickly, Shaw scanned the area for the syringe and located it just a few feet above her head. She lifted her arm from among all the computer junk, stretched out her body and grabbed the syringe. Then she twisted her body to face the oncoming attack and found Lambert jumping towards her. Shaw bit back a large cry of pain when Lambert's large body landed on her midriff but forgot all about it when she felt his fingers wrap around her neck.

Unexpectedly, in that exact moment Shaw experienced a vivid sense of clarity. _Root. Team Machine. Project Orion. There is still so much to do….._

Using her new-found strength, Shaw swung her arm across Lambert's body and embedded the syringe into his neck. She held Lambert's gaze as she squeezed the air into his veins, but only a strange sense of peace, satisfaction and determination reflected in them. As Shaw watched Lambert's deterioration, she realized that she had a new mission.

 _I need to get home._


	10. Chapter 10: Hi Harold

_Once again thank you for reading and taking the time to comment._

 **CHAPTER TEN: Hi Harold**

"John?! Oh thank goodness!.." exclaimed Finch

Finch exhaled a long sigh of relief as he watched John's tired and dirty frame make its approach through the subway towards him. "Are you okay?" he added.

Bear ran up to greet John, meandering around John's feet whilst waving his tail frantically. However John ignored the dog and began to stretch his back forcefully whilst also massaging it with one hand.

"I'm fine Harold.." replied John whilst wincing.

John shuffled to the bench beside Finch's desk in slow, short painful steps. Bear and Finch trailed behind like dedicated soldiers, neither sure of what to do to ease John's discomfort. Then, John removed his blazer, rolled up his shirt sleeves and sat down on the bench with a long, relaxed sigh of satisfaction. He closed his eyes.

Finch observed John's appearance with a deep frown. Apart from one or two gashes on his forehead, John appeared in good shape, considering he just survived an explosion. Still, one could never be too careful.

"Mr Reese, perhaps we should get you seen to by a doctor."

John opened his eyes abruptly; irritated at the interruption, but his resolve softened when he saw Bear and Finch standing side by side with the same pleading look on both their faces.

"Finch, I'm fine…" said John with a reassuring smile. "Just get me a cold beer and some food and I'll be even better.."

Finch was grateful for the opportunity to finally prove useful and so dismissed his concerns regarding John's well-being. Eager and excited to help, Finch began his journey to the exit but was interrupted by Bear's scolding yelp.

"I think someone's feeling a little left out.." stated John whilst scrutinizing Bear's heartbroken expression with a lopsided smile.

In response, Finch made a vocal apology to the dog and reluctantly invited Bear to join him.

Meanwhile, John shuffled about on the bench hoping to find a position that would ease the ache in his back. Eventually, he lent back into the bench, letting the back of his head rest gently on the vertical part of the bench behind him. Then, he stretched out his legs, crossing one over the other, and closed his eyes with a peaceful sigh. A short moment later, he fell asleep.

However, years of painful memories meant that John's sleep was often based on a rewind of his regular nightmares. Soon enough, John sensed a strong presence of someone hovering above him and he knew that the nightmare was coming. He tried to ignore what he felt, refusing to wake just yet but it was impossible; the weight of the hovering ghost felt stronger and the sound of its stuttered thick breathing was difficult to disregard.

John's eyes shot open.

Right before him stood a woman, her face deathly pale and her body drenched in blood. On passive alert, John's body moved to sit on the edge of the bench and he stared at the apparition before him open-mouthed, blinking frantically, unsure if he was still dreaming.

" _Shaw_?" he whispered in disbelief.

Shaw's tired, defenseless, bloodshot gaze finally met John's and that's when he knew. _This wasn't a dream!_

Suddenly, Bear sprinted through the subway, startling both John and Shaw and almost knocking Shaw's fragile frame off its balance. He barked excitedly, jumped up and down along Shaw's body until she finally surrendered to his pleas.

"Bear, please do not disturb John. He needs his –"

Finch stopped mid-step as his gaze settled on Shaw's barely recognizable figure. The paper bag in his hands fell to the floor with a soft crash and his gaze swayed between John and Shaw with numerous silent questions.

Shaw offered Finch a tired wave with a lopsided smile. "Hi Harold.." she mumbled through a pool of spurting blood in her mouth.

Then, Shaw's eyes closed, the tension in her body escaped and she began to fall to the ground.

John, who had anticipated the collapse, caught Shaw's body, swept her into his arms and laid her down on the bench he just vacated.

"Finch, grab all the medical supplies we've got" he instructed urgently

Shaw went in and out of consciousness. She could feel the throbbing pain in her body somewhere in the background of her mind, she could hear snippets of the commotion above her head but somehow, in some strange way she felt at peace. _She was home_.

Shaw forced herself to open her eyes despite the mental effort it required. She smiled as much as she could when she saw Bear's droopy eyes and his slobbery snout resting on the side of the bench, only a few inches away from her shoulder. She also saw Finch, whose attention floated between her and John, but she appreciated his reassuring hand squeezes. As nice as it all was, there was a big missing piece. She couldn't believe how acutely she felt it right now as opposed to all the other times she'd been alone.

"Root?" she whimpered in a raspy barely audible voice.

Finch squeezed her hand softly in between his. "Miss Groves has been away for the past couple of weeks." he explained cautiously "We had a disagreement about the future of The Machine and she left to find a way to fix it on her own terms."

"Shaw, I'm just gonna give you something for the pain.." shouted John before Shaw had a chance to respond to Finch's explanation regarding Root and The Machine.

"I escaped because Samaritan was broken" stuttered Shaw in between multiple deep breaths. "I thought it was you guys…"

Finch pondered Shaw's analogy for a while and only awoke when John prodded him for the bandages in his hand. "No.." replied Finch upon turning back to Shaw "We've had difficulties…The Machine is not what it used to be."

"I have something….." answered Shaw forcefully "it might help….with The Machine" As soon as she felt the pain ease, she used her feeble, shaking hands to search through her pockets. Seconds later she held a flash drive in the palm of her hand in front of Finch. "It was in Greer's pocket." she added in response to Finch's confused scowl.

John demanded Finch's help, so Finch gave Shaw a brief nod of thanks, deposited the flash drive into his pocket and proceeded to assist John.

Minutes later, Finch glared at the makeshift dressing on Shaw's abdomen with concern, whilst John sat back on his knees and admired his work proudly.

"Ok, Shaw I've stitched it, but its barely holding…you have to keep still.." explained John

Shaw remained silent. Finch took a few frightened steps towards her and sighed with relief when he established her to be in deep sleep. Then he picked up a blanket and gently covered Shaw's frail body, making sure to tuck the edges of the blanket beneath her limbs. Meanwhile, John cleaned up the bloody rags and leftover medical supplies. Once they finished with their respective activities, they met at Finch's desk.

Finch recovered Shaw's flash drive from his pocket and placed it on his desk carefully, holding it with two fingers as if it was something vial and threatening. Then he sat on his chair and visually examined the offending flash drive with puzzlement and caution.

"How can Samaritan be broken?" he pondered in a soft whisper

John sat on the edge of Finch's desk, his arms folded and his gaze fixed on Shaw. "I hate to break it to you Finch, but you're not the only computer genius around here…."

Finch turned to John in surprise. "Mr Reese, are you suggesting that Miss Groves had something to do with this?"

John shrugged casually. "She's been a lone ranger for a while now. Who knows what she got up to.."

Finch stared at John in wonderment "But how?"

Whilst Finch pondered the logistics of a possible Samaritan take-down, John heard the sound of high pitched footsteps. When Bear approached the subway entrance with his usual level of excitement, John immediately recognized the identity of their visitor.

"Why don't you ask her?"


	11. Chapter 11: That's my girl

_I am so sorry for the long delay in updating this, work just got in the way! I hope you are still interested in reading this! Thanks to all of you who have read and commented on the previous chapters! Enjoy the next one...:)_

 **CHAPTER ELEVEN: That's my girl**

"Harry, I have news!" announced Root with a beaming smile as she skipped towards Finch's work station.

John and Finch exchanged anxious glances, neither sure of the best way to break the news of Shaw's return. As Root approached, John crossed his arms and stood up straight, hoping that his tall frame blocked the majority of Root's view of the bench. Meanwhile, Finch switched off the screens on his monitor by tapping a few buttons in quick succession and then rotated in his chair, welcoming Root with an awkwardly forced smile.

Root examined the expressions of her colleagues with a frown, but ignored her reservations quickly. " _She_ spoke to me Harold.." she said proudly, her eyes shining with that familiar glow that both men recognized instantly.

John raised an eyebrow in surprise. " _The Machine_ spoke to you?"

Root confirmed with an eager nod of her head, a wide smile still plastered on her face. "For the first time since Samaritan!" she said and clapped her hands excitedly. However after only a few seconds of observing Finch's pensive look, Root's joy dissipated and she eyed him with a deep frown. "Why the long face Harry?"

"Well.." began Finch, finally awake from his reverie "it appears as if you've had more success with The Machine than I, Miss Groves.." he said reflectively.

Root shot John a questioning glare. "Melissa Davenport.." answered John flatly.

Root crossed her hands across her body and observed Finch with a worrying expression. "What happened?" she asked in a soft whisper.

Finch sighed heavily and his gaze met Root. "This morning, there was an explosion at Miss Davenport's apartment building. None of the residents were hurt, but three passers-by lost their lives. Mr Reese was lucky to escape relatively unharmed." he explained despondently.

"I'm sorry Harold" replied Root with a reassuring squeeze of Finch's shoulder.

"Finch, it was my idea to focus on Davenport." added John in an attempt to offer some comfort. "Your Machine only told us the location and the location of the explosion was always correct.."

Root waved her hand casually, dismissing the subject with a soft, smug smile. "None of that matters now.." She bent over to reach into her bag, which had been sitting beside her feet. "I've made some minor adjustments to her code…." she paused and pulled out her laptop, setting it on the desk between Finch and John. "And don't give me that look Harry. I had to do something. "She paused once again and typed frantically on the laptop, before looking back at Finch. " I ran all the diagnostics and everything was working perfectly and then… _She_ woke up.." finished Root poetically, her eyes glistening with joy.

Suddenly, Bear made a high pitched yelp. Root frowned with surprise, she hadn't realized that the dog was around. _Since when did Bear stop saying hello?_ Root focused her attention in Bear's direction, straining her neck to get a glimpse of Bear over John's shoulder.

"Oh…" she whispered when she noticed movement on the bench. "Harry, you forgot to mention that you had a guest.." she added playfully and approached the bench casually.

"Miss Groves wait!" exclaimed Finch.

The urgency in Finch's voice startled Root and she turned back to him with a panicked and questioning expression. Finch began to speak, but was instantly interrupted by John, who ran past them with an uncharacteristically distressed look on his face.

John knelt beside the bench. "Shaw…" he said softly, " I know it's hard but you have to keep still.."

Root's head spun about and she stared at John, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. She couldn't think clearly, the rapid, solid beats of her heart dominated her entire body. _Could it possibly be true, or is this some sort of sick joke?_

Root swallowed an imaginary lump in her throat and approached the bench on shaky legs. She held her breath and clenched her fists, silently praying that this wasn't some twisted case of wishful thinking. Then, she caught a glimpse of Shaw's face and all that tension escaped her in one deep sigh of relief. Sameen was alive. Sameen was here. The moment she had thought about for so long was finally here. Root smiled as a few stray tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Finch, I need that oxygen canister! " shouted John forcefully.

Once again, John's words startled Root. She awoke to the grim reality with a painful thump; Shaw's face was deathly pale, her lips were blue and her hand clenched across her chest every time she fought for air. The tears on Root's face fell more frequently now and an unusual hint of fear reflected in her eyes.

Finch arrived with a small, portable oxygen cylinder. Root snatched the equipment from his hands, assembled it within seconds and pushed John away from his place beside Shaw, so that she could finally secure the oxygen mask over Shaw's face.

"Hey sweetie.." whispered Root roughly. Her hands itched to touch and to hold, but the raspy growls in Shaw's chest held her back.

Desperate for some guarantees, for some hope, Root followed Shaw's breathing, counting the seconds between every rise and fall of Shaw's chest attentively. Within a few minutes, Shaw's breathing became less labored and Root smiled proudly.

"That's my girl…." she muttered. Absentmindedly, Root's hand inched closer to Shaw until the back of her finger brushed past Shaw's cheek with the gentlest of touches.

"Hmmmmmm…" came a muffled sound of satisfaction from beneath the oxygen mask, causing Root to smile fondly. She waited patiently, her eyes dancing about Shaw's face as if urging Shaw to say something more, but there were no more words.

Suddenly, Root's blazing eyes turned to Finch. "How long has she been here, like this? Why didn't you tell me?"

Finch's gaze dropped to the floor. "I'm sorry.." he mumbled, the guilt he felt over the current situation clearly evident in his voice.

"Root.." warned John sternly. "Leave him be, you're the one who left us, remember?"

Root was about to deliver another curt reply when Shaw groaned, catching everyone's attention instantly. She opened her eyes a little and stared at the ceiling. Then, she pulled down her mask. " _Geez,_ can't you two…just get along?" she muttered huskily with the smallest lopsided smile Root had ever seen.

Root and John exchanged excited smiles and Root's glistening eyes turned to Shaw. She took hold of Shaw's hand gently and smiled.

"Heeeey Sameen…" she said in that low and suggestive whisper she often used with Shaw.

The smile on Shaw's face widened a little and her head rolled in Root's directly slowly. "Root…" she whispered. "Still as annoying as ever…" Then, Shaw's fingers wrapped around Root's hand gently for a few short seconds, before she let go.

Root pulled back the oxygen mask across Shaw's face and turned to face John, whose panicked look mirrored hers.

John pulled back the blanket covering Shaw's body and examined her wound. "The stitches are still holding, but I'm guessing this is the least of her problems.." he explained despondently.

Root got to her feet purposefully. Hands on hips, she said to both Finch and John. "We have to get her to a hospital." Her eyes jumped back to Shaw's pale face and she added "This oxygen canister isn't going to last long."

There was a tense silence as each member of Team Machine thought about the logistics of Root's proposal. Finch was the first to break the silence, stepping closer to John and Root with a grim expression. "I'm not sure that's an option Miss Groves…" he said and in response to his colleague's questioning glares, added. "Miss Shaw just escaped from Mr Greer. There is a very high probability that she's on top of Samaritan's most wanted list. Also with The Machine being out of sorts we can't be sure it will protect us the way it used to…"

Root's eyes fumed with anger, but John interrupted before she could vent out her objections. "But Shaw said that Samaritan was broken.." he stated.

"Mr Reese, I cannot comprehend such a reality…" replied Finch, his pensive gaze fixed on Shaw. "Samaritan is a super AI, the most powerful of them all…with multiple back doors and backup protocols….It would take something quite incredible to break it.."

John dismissed Finch's elaborate explanation with an impatient wave of the hand. "So how was Shaw able to get away?"

Finch shrugged. "I do not know…" he replied confidently. "But what I do know is that even in its broken state, Samaritan is still ahead of us. It will find her, if we're not careful." he finished as his eyes met Root.

Root was no longer angry, probably because some part of her understood Finch's argument. She sighed heavily and turned back to look at Shaw. Moments later, when her eyes met Finch once again, only fear reflected in them.

"We don't have a choice…" she replied passionately, her eyes filling up with tears.


	12. Chapter 12: Sam, it's time

_Huge thanks as always to those who are still reading this! I hope you enjoy the next chapter. I figured Shaw should be rescued in style ;)_

 **CHAPTER TWELVE: Sam, its time…**

"No hospitals.." came a forced whisper from beneath Shaw's oxygen mask.

"Sameen…" said Root sternly as if reprimanding a child.

Shaw let go of Root's hand and perched herself on her elbow, causing all of her friends to gather around her in alarm. She felt Root's hands steadying her but when she finally regained some control of her spinning head, she waved off all further attempts at help. She took a couple of quick and purposeful breaths of oxygen before pulling off the mask completely.

"Greer's final mission for me…was to bring him here…to you Harold. I managed to escape before…but he must be after you for a reason Finch…." explained Shaw

"Does Mr Greer suspect that we rescued The Machine?..." asked Finch with a puzzled expression.

Shaw shook her head from side to side. "I don't think so…..with Samaritan broken, I assumed he needed you to help him fix it. Greer was never the brains behind Samaritan….he's just the dumb-ass pushing the buttons..." she ended breathlessly and covered her face with the oxygen mask.

After several quick breaths, Shaw continued. "Point is..we can't draw attention to ourselves. A trip to the hospital is going to expose Harold and it will eventually expose all of you. I'd rather die here than be responsible for that.." Then, her fierce warning gaze met Root's. "So no…we're _not_ going to the hospital."

Shaw blinked twice before she realized that she didn't have the energy to blink for a third time. She felt the weight of her body pulling her down and she didn't fight it. Root anticipated Shaw's eminent collapse and aided Shaw's decent, gently guiding Shaw's head towards Finch's makeshift pillow. Then, Root secured the mask over Shaw's face and urged Shaw to take deep breaths.

"Shaw, I can protect Harold. I'll get him to safety and then Root can take you to the hospital?" stated John in a gruff, frustrated voice.

Shaw opened her eyes and took several deep breaths of oxygen before responding. " _Don't_ make me repeat myself…." she muttered through gritted teeth.

"Dammit Shaw!" exclaimed Root frustratingly.

Lost and desperate for answers, Root stood up and walked away from the bench. The unfamiliar flush of emotions was clouding her ability to think. Facing a brick wall, she ran a shaking hand through her hair as she willed her mind to think the way it normally did. Detached. Logical. Practical. This was just another mission. Shaw was just another number.

Finch replaced Root's spot beside Shaw and patted Shaw's hand awkwardly, unsure if he was helping or adding to the stress of the situation. "She just needs a minute. I'm sure she'll be back…" he comforted.

Shaw faced the ceiling. Her eyes were closed and her breathing although steady was shallow. She remained still for so long that Finch's wide-eyed gaze turned to John with a raised brow.

John pressed the back of his hand to Shaw's forehead and felt the soft shivers that were beginning to takeover Shaw's body. He found another blanket and gently placed it over Shaw.

Then he grabbed a nearby duffel bag and proceeded to fill it with all the available weapons he could find.

"Mr Reese, what are you doing?" asked Finch in a faltering tone, as if afraid of the answer.

"She's getting worse, Harold" replied John desperately "If we can't take Shaw to a hospital….I'm going to bring the hospital here….."

Finch got to his feet in alarm and approached John. "What are you going to do, kidnap a surgeon?"

The determination and passion reflecting in John's eyes confirmed Finch's worst fears, but despite this Finch was unable to protest. His eyes jumped to Shaw and then back to John. Then with a resigned breath he asked "How can I help?"

"Just keep an eye on her wound and oxygen levels….I'll be as quick as I can.."

John lifted the duffel bag and took several steps towards the subway exit when a voice behind him interrupted. "John, wait…."

Root emerged from the dark shadows of the brick wall, a beaming smile plastered on her face. "John, you need to call Detective Fusco right away and get him here ASAP!" she stated.

John sighed and turned to Finch with a raised brow. Root noticed the exchange.

"Don't worry.." she said with that characteristic twinkle in her eyes. " _She_ has a plan.."

Reluctantly John dropped the bag and located his phone. Meanwhile Root jumped onto Finch's computer and frantically tapped on the keyboard. Then, she made a quick scribble on a piece of paper and stuffed it into her back pocket.

"Ok, Fusco is on the way"

"Miss Groves…" said Finch sternly, finding himself frustrated at the lack of an explanation "Care to explain?"

"The Machine has given me a number.." replied Root as she walked towards Finch and John with a pensive expression.

"Is it another location?" asked Finch reluctantly.

Root nodded in agreement. "I must bring Shaw to that location before morning or…." she paused as her sad eyes briefly scanned Shaw's body "…. she won't make it."

John's protective gaze also scanned Shaw. He felt strangely relieved that The Machine was taking care of Shaw. "OK, so where are you taking her?"

Briefly, Root avoided the keen, expectant glares from her friends. Then, with a deep, preparatory intake of breath, she announced. "The Pentagon.."

Hoping to avoid any arguments, Root left the two men and approached Shaw. She grabbed hold of Shaw's hand as her teary eyes settled on Shaw's almost unrecognizable face.

"The Machine has a plan to help you Sam…" whispered Root in a shaky, broken voice "so I am asking you to let me help, because I need you to be ok…." she pleaded as a few stray tears rolled down her cheek.

Root couldn't bring herself to look at Shaw, afraid that she might see another stern shake of the head, but when she felt Shaw's reassuring squeeze on her hand, she looked up. Shaw's head had turned her way and she found herself staring into tired and sad brown eyes. "Sure Root.." exhaled Shaw into the mask as her eyes blinked heavily "What's the plan?"

Root grinned helplessly and exchanged excited looks with John and Finch. Turning her attention back to Shaw, she explained the plan in a nervously lighthearted tone. "We're going on a road trip sweetie…you, me and Lionel."

A small hint of a smile emerged on Shaw's tired face. "Where?..." she asked

"Washington DC" replied Root and smiled when Shaw responded with a weak grunt. "A little boring I know, but we'll go somewhere fun next time.." she added playfully.

Aware of Fusco's arrival, Root encouraged Shaw to rest and met up with the men a short distance away from Shaw's bench. She greeted Fusco with a brief nod of her head.

"Miss Groves are you sure about this?" asked Finch. "The Machine isn't what it used to be. Why would it send you to The Pentagon?"

Fusco awoke from his musings "We're going _where_?" he shook his head in disbelief "It's never simple with you people.."

"You're right Harold.." said Root irritably. "It is dangerous and complicated and I have no idea why _She_ wants me to take Shaw to The Pentagon, but _She_ has always protected us. _She_ was always in the right. Have faith in _Her_ , Harold.." she pleaded desperately.

Finch held Root's passionate glare for a short while and sighed heavily. "Ok, I will do my best to help you gain entry into The Pentagon.."

"Thanks Harold.." replied Root with a relieved smile.

She heard steps behind her and turned to find John. "I've packed some essentials for your trip.." he said and dropped a black duffel bag beside Root's feet.

"Thanks. Stay with Harold and The Machine…I'll be in touch."

Then, Root inhaled a long deep breath and walked towards the bench. Kneeling beside Shaw, she said. "Sam…its time."


	13. Chapter 13: Gee Doc

_Big thanks to you all for reading and commenting. Glad to hear that people are still reading this..._

 **CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Gee Doc…..**

 _Hmmmmmm…..beefy, juicy slice of goodness….the perfect rib-eye…..oh hell yeah!...hmmmmm_

 _LIGHTS! BRIGHT LIGHTS!_

Shaw awoke in a frightened panic; her eyes wide open and her lungs at max capacity, both obeying the adrenaline pumping through her body. Before she could recognize the stranger before her, she felt a pair of large hands gripping either side of her shoulders, softly pushing against her body.

"Miss Shaw, please remain calm…." said the male stranger in an accent Shaw found difficult to place. "You're in a hospital. My name is Dr Adams. I am just checking your vitals."

Shaw relaxed into her hospital bed, a deep sense of confusion enveloping the expression on her face. The taste of that perfect rib-eye still lingered in her mouth, but Dr Adams didn't look like someone who'd know much about steaks.

The doctor's huge arm wavered in front of Shaw's gaze, moving back and forth in slow motion, like a crane lifting loads. Shaw was about to vocalize her protests to this disturbance when the doctor forced open her right eye and another bright light shone directly into her soul.

Shaw raised her arms to block out the blinding light, but almost instantly she felt a sharp, burning pain around her wrists. Then, Shaw felt the weight that immobilized her arms and as hard as she tried, she couldn't find the strength to fight it. She dropped her arms on the bed beside her with a defeated sigh.

"Get that damned light outta my face!" she shouted as the doctor's face neared her own.

Much to Shaw's relief Dr Adams obeyed her request. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths until her breathing settled. Then, she forced her mind to remember the chain of events that bought her here.

 _Nothing! …..What the hell happened? How did I get here? …NOTHING!…Dammit!_

Shaw's eyes opened abruptly and she lifted her head to examine her surroundings. Dr Adams stood beside her, his large hand shifting from side to side on a surface of a blue file. Whatever was in front of her was harder to make out; the series of lamps shining in her direction were hard on her eyes. Instinctively, she raised an arm to shield her eyes but was quickly reminded of the burning pain this produced. Her gaze dropped to the chains strapped around her wrists and then her head hit the pillow in frustration.

" _What_ …. kind of hospital chains patients to their beds?" she asked through gritted teeth.

Dr Adams's hand paused and his blue eyes met Shaw from above his surgical mask. "You are in a high security confidential medical facility and you're in isolation. We chained you to the bed for your own safety…" he explained in a factual, disinterested tone.

Shaw raised an eyebrow as a hint of a smile threatened to emerge on her face. Something about the doctor's explanation gave her a sense of remembrance; for the first time since waking up, she felt some kind of familiarity. _Why do they always tell you it's for your own good when they tie you up?_

Shaw smirked. "Sure doc….for my own safety, gotcha…"

The only reply Shaw received was a fleeting glance from a pair of poker-faced blue eyes.

Shaw turned her attention back to her earlier task; surveying the rest of the room. She figured if she sat up she might be able to avoid the ridiculous lights in front of her. She shuffled her body from side to side and using her elbows for leverage wherever she could, she was able to manipulate her body into a sitting position. _It's not like I haven't had my hands tied before?_ To Shaw's surprise, the doctor re-organized the pillows behind her back and she gave him a silent nod of thanks.

Shaw's hospital room was enclosed by four walls made of some kind of dirty, non-transparent glass. Shaw narrowed her gaze, concentrating on one fixed point, but she couldn't see anything beyond the glass walls. She began searching for entrance and exit points but was only able to locate them because a suit stood beside it.

Mr Suit stood straight with his arms by his side. He wore a crisp, intimidating expression and a sharp gaze. _So this is what Adams meant by isolation…_

Mr Suit stepped to the side, so that a petite nurse holding a metal tray could walk into the room. The nurse placed the tray of surgical implements on the foot of Shaw's bed. With an averted gaze, she began swinging her arms ferociously as she cleaned each implement with meticulous detail.

Shaw frowned as she took note of the nurse's uniform. She wore _white_ surgical scrubs, a _white_ scrub cap and a _white_ surgical mask. Shaw's gaze swung back to Dr Adams and she realized that the good doctor also wore an all-white uniform. Then, Shaw noticed the white paint covering the ceiling and the floor.

Shaw inhaled a tentative, nervous gulp of air. _This place is definitely some kind of hell!_

"What's going on here?" she asked, turning her attention back to the doctor.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that…" replied Dr Adams, this time without even looking at Shaw. "My job is to simply monitor your health. As soon as I'm done with my examination, someone will be in to answer your questions."

Shaw eased her body back into the pillows with a resigned sigh. Her lack of memory and the doctor's reluctance to discuss anything didn't leave her with many answers.

"How long have I been here?" she asked as the doctor placed the blue file on a nearby table.

Dr Adams rubbed his hands together rapidly and pulled back the blanket covering Shaw's body. Shaw inhaled a deep breath in preparation for the uninvited contact. "Four weeks, give or take.." he replied finally.

"Why can't I remember any of it?"

"You were in a coma…..Give your body time to catch up…." the doctor advised and placed the blankets back on top of Shaw's torso. "You are very lucky to be alive, you should try to remain that way…." he added as his cautionary gaze settled on Shaw.

"Yeah well…" she mumbled in response to what she knew was a serious warning from the doctor "being strapped to a bed against my will and having a gun pointing at my head from Mr Suit over there…doesn't exactly fill me with hope…"

Dr Adams didn't respond. Instead he glanced at his watch and scribbled hurried short notes in his blue file. Then, his attention turned to Shaw.

"Right…you're recovering well" he said just when Shaw got away with her thoughts "I am happy to open the restraints on your wrists, but a word of warning…if you attempt to hurt any member of my staff, or leave this room without permission someone _will_ shoot you and probably _kill_ you."

"Gee Doc…." she answered with a bemused expression. "Thanks for the heads up…"

Dr Adams gave a brief nod to Mr Suit as he stuck a key into one of the chains entrapping Shaw's left wrist. Mr Suit stepped closer to the bed and pointed a gun at Shaw's head. As soon as Adams opened the first set of restraints the nurse shuffled out of the room with a nervous glance at Mr Suit and a rather possessive grip on her metal tray of implements. Afterwards, Adams glanced at his watch and briskly walked to the opposite side of Shaw's bed, removing the second set of restraints at double the speed.

Shaw massaged her aching wrists and watched as the bruised area regained some color. As the pain dissipated, Shaw glanced forward hoping to thank the doctor but Adams walked out of the room purposefully, without a single glance at his patient. Mr Suit however, backed away slowly and didn't lower his weapon until he was at the door. Unfortunately he didn't go far because Shaw could see the faint outline of his body through the weirdly stained glass door.

Once alone, Shaw pulled back the covers and swung her feet over the side of the bed, leaving them dangling just above the clinical white floor. She couldn't see any shoes and just looking at the floor gave her hypothermia but she was curious and she was bored. She jumped off the bed and was surprised to find the floor a lot warmer than she expected.

Arriving at the nearest wall, Shaw pressed her hands against the glass, tapping it with her knuckles several times. _Tough glass, not easy to break._ Then, Shaw pressed her face against the glass but this activity was just as redundant as the first. She could see nothing but a uniform white background.

With a heavy drop of her shoulders and a deep sigh, Shaw turned back to stare at her bed and the monitors beside it. She decided that getting an update on her medical condition might help her jog her memory. She remembered Adams' blue file and assuming it was her medical chart she busied herself with searching for it. She rummaged around the monitors, in her bed and on the small table beside her bed but no matter where she looked, she just couldn't find it.

Shaw paused, feeling like she needed to re-think her strategy. _Ok, it's a long shot, but what the hell…._ She dropped to her knees to check the area underneath the bed, just in case the file fell on the floor. Suddenly she felt an uncomfortable but a strangely familiar sensation of pain at the side of her abdomen.

She straightened her body and massaged the painful area thoughtfully. Softly, her fingers brushed across the faint scar of her wound and the memories from the last few weeks rapidly flashed through her mind.

 _Greer and his torture dungeon. That asshole, Lambert! Finch. John. Flash drive. Road trip…Root._

 _Root!_

Shaw jumped to her feet and spun on her heels, heading for the door, her mind and body itching to crack the neck on Mr Suit.

However as soon as Shaw's eyes settled on the exit, she froze before she could even take a step.

A tall, large woman in a black and white pant-suit stood before her. A white surgical mask covered the majority of the woman's face, but Shaw knew the look of a killer when she saw one.

"Control…"


	14. Chapter 14: Where is Root?

_Apologies for the delay between updates, I'm relocating :( Anyway, here is the next chapter, I hope you guys are still reading!_

 **CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Where is Root?**

Shaw staggered back several steps, mostly from disbelief. Given the crazy underground world she was living in these days, she wasn't sure why she was surprised to find herself faced with yet another crazy-ass psycho who's out to get people. _Whatever this is, it can't be good…_

Shaw raised her chin and her lethal gaze met Control.

"Please Agent Shaw, relax." said Control with a tone that held a hint of mockery "Nobody is going to hurt you here. We're on the same side now."

Shaw sneered quickly. "We were on the same side before and that didn't stop you from trying to kill me."

After a thoughtful pause, Control shrugged casually. "Everyone makes mistakes…"

Shaw frowned with confusion. _Is she apologizing?_ _Ok, enough small talk!_

"Where is Root?" demanded Shaw

After a brief pause, Control's eyes, which were the only thing Shaw could see, narrowed at the corners. Shaw wondered if Control was smiling.

"Why don't I start at the beginning?" replied Control in a tone that was too happy and compliant for Shaw's liking. "You are in a secret medical facility at The Pentagon. You were suffering from severe infection and sepsis. We treated you as best as we could but you ended up in a coma. Dr Adams tells me that you're recovering well, since you woke up."

Shaw rolled her eyes and exhaled in annoyance. She closed the gap between herself and Control in three quick strides.

"None of that answers my question." said Shaw with her venomous gaze only inches away from Control's mask. " _Where_ …is Root?"

Ordinarily Shaw's deathly stare would induce anyone into co-operation, but Control wasn't intimidated and there was a tense and silent stand-off. However Control was astute enough to know when to back down.

"She's fine." replied Control in an irritated tone. "Ms Groves has been a valuable asset to us lately. She's been working with some of my agents on the relevant numbers."

Shaw's eyes searched Control's masked face with uncertainty.

Control sensed Shaw's dilemma. "There is one thing you should know about this place Agent Shaw….nobody here will hurt you, but nothing here is for free…" she explained philosophically.

"Meaning what, exactly?" asked Shaw with a puzzled frown.

"We have reason to believe that for the past few months you've been _employed_ elsewhere….So when Ms Groves bought you here, she and I made a deal…" explained Control with a hint of happiness in her eyes that didn't go unnoticed by Shaw. "We save your life in exchange for information on Mr Greer and his Samaritan program..." she added sternly.

"What makes you so sure that I believe anything you say?" mumbled Shaw maliciously as she continued but failed to read Control's hidden facial expressions. "Besides, until five minutes ago I couldn't remember how I got here. What makes you think I remember anything about Greer and his pain-in-the-ass program?"

Control shrugged, a deep level of seriousness suddenly reflecting in her eyes. " We can do this the easy way or the hard way Agent Shaw, so for your sake I hope your memory returns soon…" she chuckled mockingly "like I said, nothing is for free."

Shaw understood the meaning of Control's insinuations well. _If it was up to me I'd tell her everything and let those idiots fight it out! But Root had made the deal…. and Root always has her reasons…._

Control had observed Shaw's mind battle with some enjoyment.

"Mr Greer and Samaritan are the number one most relevant threat to national security Agent Shaw. My mission is to destroy them both…." she stopped abruptly to scold Shaw's bemused expression with a firm glare and then added "In case this persuades you to jog your memory…"

Shaw laughed. "Uhum sure, national security…"

"So, for the sake of national security, let's make a new deal…" said Shaw confidently, her breath hitting Control's mask with force. "I want to speak with Root _in person_ and then we'll talk about Samaritan….And just so we're clear…..I don't care about what happens to me, you can torture me all you like. I only care about Root, so you screw this up and you can kiss Samaritan goodbye..."

Control's gaze didn't flinch, on par with Shaw's. "Very well" she replied flatly. "But it can't happen for another week. You need to complete your course of treatment…" added Control in a tone that suggested that this matter wasn't up for negotiation.

Shaw shrugged casually "Whatever. The sooner you let me see Root, the sooner you can get to know Mr Greer…" she replied with a puzzled frown. _What is she talking about?_

Control's eyes scanned Shaw's frame with an obvious smile, like a predator sizing its already-trapped prey. "You should rest now Agent Shaw. We wouldn't want you to lose anymore memories, now would we? " she said with a mockingly affectionate tone.

"Sure….." answered Shaw with a sarcastic smile. "Can I get some books or something? It's kinda dull in here…."

Control walked away without a reply.

"Or how about a TV?..." she shouted as loudly as she could, enjoying how her words accelerated Control's departure.

"Oh and a steak would be great!"


	15. Chapter 15: I just had to see you

_Once again a big thanks to you all for reading and commenting and for being so patient with my terribly slow updates on this...I hope you enjoy the next installment. :)_

 **CHAPTER FIFTEEN: I just had to see you**

After multiple failed attempts at sleep and an even greater amount of strange medical tests, Shaw longed for some peace. She almost squealed with delight when the main lights went out, signifying bed time. _Finally, no more interruptions!_

Shaw settled into her bed and the small lamp beside it, and scowled deeply at the unfamiliar pages of _Good Housekeeping_. However it wasn't long before she fell into a light sleep with _Good Housekeeping_ sprawled across her chest.

Then, a heavy, cold weight clasped over her mouth.

"Shhhh..." whispered a soft, familiar voice into Shaw's ear, stunning her into complete stillness. "Sam, it's me…" it added. _There was no mistaking that voice. Root was here._

Shaw perched herself onto her elbows, her eyes never leaving Root's face.

" _Root?_ " she whispered, her voice laden with uncertainty and worry.

Root opened her mouth to speak, but a soft beep diverted her attention to her watch. "We don't have much time…" she said when her eyes met Shaw once again.

Shaw's eyes scanned Root's appearance methodically. Root wore light blue surgical scrubs and her hair was tied back neatly beneath a scrub cap. A puzzling and somewhat bemused expression appeared on Shaw's face.

"They wouldn't tell me anything, but then….. I heard a rumor…that you were awake..and..." she paused as that addictive smile re-emerged on her face. Her eyes lingered on Shaw's face for just a little longer than necessary, memorizing and reveling in its every detail and causing Shaw to experience all sorts of pleasantly uncomfortable feelings.

"…and I just had to see you…" she finished finally and her hand cupped the side of Shaw's face, tenderly.

Shaw exhaled a ragged breath. The intensity of all the conflicting emotions she felt, overwhelmed her; she couldn't rationalize any of them. Plus the loud pounding in her chest was not helping her ability to concentrate.

"Root….your hand is freezing…." she stated flatly and cringed immediately at how lame it sounded. _Out of all the things you could have said…_

But Root was completely unfazed. She smiled apologetically. "Sorry…" she said as her hand dropped to the bed, coming to rest just beside Shaw's body. She shifted her weight onto that hand and leaned in closer to Shaw. "I had to hide out at the morgue…" she added with a lopsided smile.

"Root…." answered Shaw sternly "That's not funny…." she added and her gaze dropped as a deeply thoughtful expression emerged on her face.

This time it was Root who sighed heavily. "How are you Sameen? Are you feeling ok? Tired? Any problems with vision? Dizzy spells?" probed Root urgently.

Root tested Shaw's temperature with a soft touch of Shaw's forehead but was unsatisfied with the result. Then, she proceeded to peel back Shaw's vest to check on her old abdomen wound.

Root's touchy-feely invasion of Shaw's privacy awoke Shaw from her inner thoughts. She caught Root's hands and deliberately met Root's gaze, silently urging her to calm down.

"Am I ok?" she stated through gritted teeth "Root, you're shivering…" she added and slowly released her grip on Root's wrists.

Suddenly, an unexpected flash of moving light somewhere in the nearby distance caused a fast change in Root's demeanor. She wrapped her arms around Shaw's body and pushed them both towards the bed.

Shaw's head landed on the pillow with a slightly painful thud, but before she had time to recover, Root's body landed on top of her.

" _Don't_ move" warned a warm and tense whisper in Shaw's ear.

Despite their physical closeness both women keenly concentrated on the walls surrounding them, both watching as the lights came closer towards them. Shaw had no idea what those lights meant, but the urgency in Root's voice warned Shaw to comply with her request.

As the lights moved through Shaw's room, Root tightened her embrace around Shaw's body. It wasn't long before the lights moved past them, but the tension in Root's body didn't ease until the lights were a good distance behind them.

"Well, isn't this cozy?..." whispered Root huskily with a suggestive smile.

Shaw rolled her eyes and glared at Root with a raised brow and a passive aggressive glint in her eyes.

Root shifted some of her weight onto her left elbow and her mischievous eyes made a deliberately slow, clearly obvious, lingering journey down Shaw's body before finally settling on the magazine in Shaw's lap. A raised brow accompanied Root's massive and somewhat teasing grin.

"A little desperate on reading material, eh Sameen?"

Shaw's eyes jumped to the magazine and she pouted her lips. "They didn't have _Guns & Ammo_, okay? I asked" she replied defensively.

Root giggled. She grabbed the magazine from Shaw's loose grip, flipped it over and examined the page Shaw had been reading.

" _How to make a gigantic knit blanket in less than 4 hours?_ " mocked Root with a wide grin.

"What?" exclaimed Shaw in horror "I wasn't reading that…."

"Uhum…" teased Root with the low, playful tone of her voice. " _Turn an old bench into the perfect love-seat…_ " read Root and her accusing gaze jumped to Shaw from beneath the magazine pages.

Shaw groaned out loud in frustration.

Root laughed. Afterwards, her head tilted and she stared at Shaw fondly. "Are you gonna make us a love-seat, Sweetie?" she asked with a beaming smile.

"Give me that!" muttered Shaw through gritted teeth. She snatched the magazine from Root's hands and stuffed it under the blankets frustratingly. Her irritated gaze turned back to Root. "Did you just come here to annoy me?"

"Not quite" replied Root with a half-hearted smile "But I get distracted every time I see you" she added as her shamelessly flirty eyes met Shaw.

With another frustrated roll of the eyes, Shaw jumped out of bed and walked towards Root's side in quick, short strides. Root was disappointed at the sudden interruption and sat on the edge of the bed with drooping shoulders and a slightly exaggerated expression of boredom.

"Get in bed, now" instructed Shaw angrily.

Root's eyes lit up and she grinned suggestively. "Are you coming too?"

"Get in bed now and start talking some sense, or I swear I will kick you outta here myself…." instructed Shaw as her eyes narrowed on Root, harshly.

Root sighed with defeat and reluctantly climbed into Shaw's bed. Shaw wrapped all the blankets she could find tightly around Root's torso, leaving only her neck exposed. Then she adopted Root's earlier seat at the edge of the bed.

"They have you enrolled in some kind of medical trial" began Root, speaking in a somber, reflective tone whilst staring at the ceiling. "They've been monitoring you religiously ever since you got here, which is why nobody's allowed in here. I've been trying to find out the details but Control has me out on assignments so it's been difficult…"

"Well that explains it…" whispered Shaw mostly to herself, but Root's head went up immediately and she questioned Shaw silently.

"Root, I had a severe blood infection. I should have died"

Root's head hit the pillow once again and she replied in a slightly solemn but confident tone. "You should know by now…..I'll never let that happen, Sameen."

Shaw's eyes lingered on Root's face thoughtfully and she shifted her weight uncomfortably.

"Point is…" said Shaw with a heavy sigh. "Whatever they're testing here, must be _quite_ _something_."

"Ok, but then why hide it from the rest of the world? They're not exactly singing about this from the rooftops? On paper, this hospital doesn't even exist."

Shaw smirked. "Well its Control we're talking about here….Unethical research? Lethal side effects? Take your pick!"

Suddenly, Root's body tensed and her gaze met Shaw's purposefully. She was sad, somewhat emotional and a strange hint of guilt reflected in her eyes.

"I'm sorry Sameen" she said sadly "I never meant to get you into this mess, but I'm working on it ok. I'm going to find out what this medical trial is all about. I promise." she pleaded.

Shaw clenched her jaws tightly as her mind churned through the unfamiliar flush of feelings Root seemed to be bringing out in her tonight. Uncomfortable, unsure and somewhat frightened, Shaw offered her standard non-emotional reply.

"So you broke in here in the middle of the night to apologize for saving my life?" Although Shaw attempted to portray a neutral demeanor, her voice was huskier and softer than usual, something which was immediately noticed by Root.

A soft alarm beeped before Root could answer. Root checked her watch. "It's time for me to go" she announced as she jumped off the bed just in front of Shaw. "The guard is on his way back.."

Shaw sighed heavily. She realized that she felt an extreme pang of sadness and disappointment. _I must be losing my mind._

Root placed her hands on either side of Shaw's shoulders and smiled briefly. "Listen, when you talk to Control you have to tell her that Samaritan isn't broken." Root paused to take a quick look at the door behind Shaw.

"When you escaped from Greer, it was Control who attacked Samaritan, partially disabling it. Control has built a virus which may have the power to override Samaritan. Finch needs a copy of it and the only way to get it is to persuade Control to use it on Samaritan once again."

Shaw nodded in agreement. "You couldn't just start with that?...instead of that sentimental nonsense…"

Root ignored Shaw's response and smiled adoringly. "I'll let you get back to your reading…" she said with that sparkly playful look in her eyes.

Before Shaw had a chance to speak, Root leaned real close and in a tone that was all kids of sexy, confident, daring and non-negotiable all at the same time, she added.

"I _really_ want that love-seat Sameen."


	16. Chapter 16: We had a deal

_Thanks for reading and for your comments. Apologies in advance as the next few chapters were written during a time of writers block, so i hope you still enjoy them!_

 **CHAPTER SIXTEEN: We had a deal**

A week later, Shaw found herself sitting behind a cold metallic table in Control's dark and depressing interrogation dungeon. After hours of talking in circles about Samaritan, Shaw was beginning to wonder if something was amiss.

Shaw exhaled a tentative breath and sat back into her chair. Control sat directly opposite, the only thing separating the two women was the empty grey table. Control sat comfortably in her seat, her elbows resting on the table and her eyes relaxed but purposeful, as if this was just another weekly budget meeting. However this didn't ease Shaw's reservations.

Control opened her mouth to speak but was immediately disrupted by a short and sharp knock on the door. Although irritated at the interruption, Control invited the intruder to come in. The male agent relayed his message on a piece of white card and left the room.

Shaw, who had been watching Control like a hawk, noticed that the new information surprised Control. Shaw also knew that Control didn't like surprises.

Shaw's tense body crept forward and she rested her elbows on the table.

"If something happened to Root, I swear I will kill you before the day is over!" she said through gritted teeth, her eyes were blazing with anger.

Something flickered in Control's gaze, despite her attempts to remain business-like. Shaw knew that she was at least partially correct about her assumptions regarding Root. Shaw sighed heavily. She tried to focus on her original game plan for this interrogation, but the anxiety she felt for Root's safety overwhelmed her and she struggled to be patient with this charade.

"Look, I don't care what your informants tell you.." continued Shaw from their earlier conversation with an exasperated breath "but _I'm_ telling you that whatever you tried to do to Samaritan, it didn't work! Samaritan is still alive and kicking and you need to try again!"

Control pouted her lips in thought as her narrowed gaze assessed Shaw's composure in a long, tense silence. Then, with one eye on Shaw, Control pulled out a small plastic bag from one of her pockets and placed it on the table. Shaw's eager eyes settled on the bag and she recognized the small device inside it, immediately. She clenched her jaws; strange how such a small thing could hold so many connotations.

Shaw's hands turned into tight fists as she glared at Control with a murderous gaze. Control smiled.

"Don't misunderstand me Agent Shaw.." said Control with satisfaction "Miss Groves volunteered to surrender her ear accessory as a down payment on our deal."

Despite her efforts to remain unaffected, Shaw couldn't hide her surprise at being presented with what was essentially The Machine. _Dammit Root! What the hell is going on here?_ Shaw felt a sense of déjà vu. Once again, she had more questions than answers.

Control watched Shaw's inner struggles in contented silence. "Agent Shaw, I'm merely trying to show you that your situation here can only be helped by you….and not by some artificial intervention…So, I suggest that you be frank with me"

Shaw adopted her best poker face. "We had a deal.." she said sternly. Shaw was beginning to lose her cool and she knew that she couldn't afford to do that with Control.

"We've been over this Samaritan crap all day, so I'd say that I've more than delivered on my part….Now, it's your turn."

Meanwhile, somewhere on the outskirts of New York State, Finch switched off the engine of his car with a heavy sigh. He glanced at the back seat cautiously, but when he saw that Bear was resting comfortably his worried gaze settled on John. John sat in the front passenger seat, his body tense and his eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.

"As much as I enjoy night time drives in the woods Finch.." began John flatly, a hint of irritation evident in his voice. "Do you want to explain what the hell is going on?"

"The Machine has given us a new location…." replied Finch in a hesitant, shaky tone "This is it..." he added whilst pointing to the view through the windscreen.

The view consisted of a small country road that led up to a large, ordinary looking farmhouse. Adjoining the farmhouse was an older, more dilapidated looking building that John guessed could only be a barn. The entire property was enclosed by a fairly dense forest.

John shrugged casually. "Looks normal enough…..but judging by your behavior tonight I'm guessing it isn't."

"The Machine has given this location an emergency priority…" explained Finch as a somber and worrying expression emerged on his face. "Since this is a new experience for us Mr Reese, I can only assume that something more extreme than normal is going to happen here."


	17. Chapter 17

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: She's recovering well, Harold…**

"Finch do you have any info on this place?" asked John whilst attempting to pick the lock of the backdoor to the farmhouse. He cursed silently; picking locks in near-pitch darkness was not his best skill, but he succeeded nonetheless. He scanned the surrounding woods one more time and entered the farmhouse.

John entered what was a basement junk room. A flickering light bulb hanging low at the far corner enabled John to clear the room of any danger and locate a set of stairs leading up to another door.

"The property belongs to Mary and Carl Gill, who have lived here for the past 30 years" sounded Finch's voice through John's ear-piece. "Mr and Mrs Gill won an all-expenses paid holiday to Hawaii last month and boarded a flight to Honolulu 2 days ago."

John's only reply was a lopsided smile. Gun in hand; John made a cautious approach upstairs, eyes and ears on high alert.

Upon emerging through the second door, John found himself in a large, clean kitchen. The windows looked out onto the back yard and the entire space was illuminated by the faint light of the moon. John couldn't detect any obvious threats so he progressed further into the room, taking slow tentative steps.

Suddenly, John heard a loud shuffle behind him.

He turned but it was too late; his head collided with a cold, solid object before he fell to the floor. Despite his vibrating brain and blurry vision, John raised his head in the suspected direction of his attacker. Then, John heard the purposeful footsteps of his assailant so he swung his legs frantically, hoping to sweep the stranger of his feet.

Almost instantly, John felt a heavy weight land on top of him and a mass of curly hair materialized in his face. He recognized the scent immediately.

" _Root_?"

" _John_?" she answered back just as surprised. "What the hell are you doing here?" she added and clambered to her feet.

"Working on something for Finch and The Machine…" he replied as he grabbed hold of Root's outstretched hand. Root guided him to a nearby chair.

"I'm sorry I hit you…" she stated whilst examining John's wound in the moonlight. "I was looking for Agent Hall. We were called here on a case. She should have been here hours ago."

John picked up a nearby tea-towel and pressed it to his head. Then, with a raised brow he tapped his ear. "Finch, could this be a relevant number?"

"It cannot be so, Mr Reese. The Machine _shouldn't_ have sent us here, if this is indeed a relevant number…" answered Finch confidently.

"Well your machine is having a bad day because Root's standing right in front of me."

"Hi Harry…" said Root in her characteristically cheery tone.

"Miss Groves!?" exclaimed Finch into John's earpiece far too loudly. "Is she ok? What is she doing there?"

"Looking for her new partner, Hall…." answered John casually whilst watching Root rummage through nearby kitchen drawers. "She's the blonde that nearly killed you about two weeks ago, when we met Root in the underground parking lot…" he added when Finch sounded perplexed.

"Ah yes, Agent Jessica Hall" mumbled Finch nervously. "Mr Reese, it says here that Agent Hall has worked for Control for the past 3 years and has an exemplary record, which could only mean that she is here for Control…on a relevant case."

John exhaled a casual, I-told-you so breath. "I'm glad we're finally on the same page, Finch…" He probed his wound gently to check if the bleeding had stopped.

"But why would The Machine send us on a relevant number?..…" pondered Finch

John opened his mouth to answer but was distracted when Root's head jumped up from beneath one of the kitchen drawers. Her gaze narrowed on something at the kitchen doorway. She grabbed her gun and made a calculated, unhurried exit from the kitchen.

"Hold that thought…." whispered John hurriedly. He jumped off his seat, took a minute to steady himself on his feet and followed Root.

They entered the hallway. Despite the presence of multiple rooms, Root made a speedy approach towards the last room in the series, located at the end of the hallway and to the left of the main door. Upon entering the room, Root crouched beside the window and discreetly peeked through the small opening in the curtains. John located his own viewing spot at the opposite corner of the window.

"Finch…It looks like The Machine invited us to Greer's party…"

"Yeah…" whispered Root thoughtfully "except Greer's leaving early…"

"Greer?..."asked Finch, the surprise clearly evident in his voice. "Mr Reese, do you think this is some kind of stand-off between Control and Samaritan?"

John considered the idea for a brief moment until Root pulled back from the window with a deep frown. "Do you smell that?" she asked.

"John!" exclaimed Finch before John had a chance to respond to Root. "I suggest that you get out of the farmhouse right now. There is a large plume of smoke coming from your location…"

John grabbed Root's hand and pulled her towards the door. "Come on, we have to leave…" he instructed sternly. "I think Greer's men set this place on fire…"

Root's frown deepened. "But….Why?"

"Hall!" they replied in unison almost instantly.

"Greer must have captured her…" muttered Root aloud as she pieced her thoughts together. "Come on, we have to get to that fire…."

Fortunately, the fire was still relatively young and had yet to spread to the entire barn. Enticed by the available barn entrance, Root surfaced from their hideout behind the rear corner of the farmhouse. Within seconds she was greeted by an onslaught of flying bullets.

John pulled them both to the ground. "Root, we need to get outta here. I don't have enough ammo to hold them off…" he explained with a grim expression.

"John….this isn't negotiable. We have to find Hall…." said Root as her stern gaze met John's. "Hall being alive means I stay at The Pentagon….it means I stay with Shaw…" she added in response to John's puzzled frown.

"Ok but we're gonna need a –"

John stared past Root into the distance and a slow grin arose on his face. Finch's limo appeared in-between the farmhouse and the barn. Parked diagonally it provided John and Root with the ideal protection from enemy gunfire.

Finch and Bear jumped out of the vehicle as soon as it stopped and crouched low to ground in front of the right front tire. Then, John made a purposeful approach towards the limo's backseat whereas an excited Root ran-up to the barn entrance.

"Great timing Harry…" she said with a grin as she passed Finch. Bear followed Root inside the barn, despite Finch's attempts to stop him.

With a disappointing shake of the head, Finch turned to John, who was now equipped with several automatic weapons, much to Finch's surprise. John held Greer's men at bay while Root searched for Hall in the burning barn. Minutes later, Root along with Bear dragged Hall's semi-conscious body through the barn doorway, all three of them huffing and coughing breathlessly.

Agent Hall had been badly beaten, but she was conscious and with Root's assistance was able to climb into the back of the limo. Bear, Root and Finch also climbed into the backseat, whereas John eliminated the last of Greer's agents and jumped into the driver's seat.

A tense silence followed, everyone listening out nervously for more gunfire, but fortunately none came. Satisfied that they had put some safe distance between themselves and the enemy, Root turned her attention to Hall. She noticed that Hall was going in and out of consciousness and had problems breathing.

"Hang in there Jess….." urged Root

"Greer….." muttered Hall hoarsely. She grabbed hold of Root's arm and added. "…..was looking for you…..he….wanted you…"

"Me?" asked Root incredulously but Hall lost consciousness.

Root's questioning gaze met Finch, but Finch's only response was an apologetic shrug of the shoulders.

"I think I know what's going on…" exclaimed John suddenly, causing the others to glance in his direction eagerly. Even Bear raised his snout with curiosity. "Greer set up an ambush to capture you, Root. Maybe he got Samaritan to create a relevant number to get you here but when Hall showed up instead of you….he had to improvise. He tortured Hall and set the place on fire when he didn't need her anymore…"

"That makes sense, I guess.." answered Root thoughtfully "but it doesn't explain what the two of you were doing here long before any of this went down…"

"The Machine!" answered Finch excitedly. Startled by Finch's surprising outburst, Bear squalled disapprovingly.

Both Root and Bear glared at Finch with equally confused faces. "The Machine gave us this location and assigned an emergency priority to these specific set of coordinates. Initially we didn't know what this meant, but given what we just learnt…" he explained and paused thoughtfully as if to verify his conclusions.

"I think The Machine sent us here because it saw a potential danger for one of its assets…..Miss Groves, I believe that tonight The Machine gave us _your_ number…." finished Finch with a short, reluctant smile.

After a brief, thoughtful silence, Root smiled, her eyes glistening in the darkness.

"She's recovering well, Harold…"


	18. Chapter 18: Hey Root

_hi everyone, thanks for reading and commenting. Apologies for the delay, I was trying so many different ideas with this chapter, it got a bit out of hand! I am still not 100% happy with it but I feel like this is the best it's been. I hope you like it._

 **CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: Hey Root**

"Here we are, Agent Shaw…my part of the deal…." stated Control as she swiped her ID card through an unidentifiable, metallic door and then motioned for Shaw to go inside.

Shaw's eyes traveled tentatively, from the agent pointing a gun at her back, to Control, to the door handle. She exhaled a heavy breath and proceeded into the room, cautiously. Inside, she saw a lonely light bulb hanging from the ceiling and two single beds that spanned the left and right walls of the perimeter.

Then, her eyes found Root.

Root was resting, on the bed to Shaw's right, furthest from the entrance. She had her right arm draped across her eyes, shielding them from the strong artificial light above and her chest rose and fell to a slow and steady rhythm.

Shaw exhaled a long and calming sigh of relief and almost immediately Root's head shot up with alarm.

" _Shaw_?" she questioned in disbelief as her eyes adjusted to the light.

Shaw's brain scrambled for a reply, but it was too late. Root was already running towards her with open arms and a wide smile.

Initially, Shaw's body tensed, but when she felt the gratifying crush of Root's arms around her shoulders, she smiled. Absentmindedly, she draped her arms around Root's waist and relaxed into the hug. She closed her eyes and reacquainted herself with Root's familiar smell and the feeling of comfort and reassurance that Root's presence always stirred within her.

"Hey Root…" she mumbled eventually, her tone rough and uncontrolled.

Root tightened her grip around Shaw for a few short seconds and then tilted her head to speak into Shaw's ear.

" _Heeeyyyy_ Sameen…." she whispered in her slow, drawn-out drawl, her voice hoarse and heated, her warm breath hitting Shaw's skin like a million piercing needles.

Shaw pulled back abruptly, stepping back far enough to break all physical contact. Meanwhile Root rejoiced in Shaw's annoyance with her head cocked to the side and a bemused twinkle in her eye.

"Nice accessory…" said Shaw roughly whilst pointing to the dressing on Root's forearm. "Root, you get worse every time I see you. What the hell happened? …" she added in a reproachful tone, her confident gaze meeting Root's.

"Sorry sweetie…" replied Root with an over-exaggerated pout of the lips. "I would have dressed up, had I known you were coming…" she added with a mischievous grin.

Shaw rolled her eyes and exhaled an irritated sigh. "Control has let me see you in exchange for information on Greer and Samaritan. We don't have much time!..." she paused as her eyes lingered on Root's injury and her expression took on a somber manner. "So, _what_ happened Root?" she added in a softer, concerned tone.

Root's shoulder's drooped as she exhaled a bored sigh and returned to the bed, taking a seat at its edge.

"My number came up on the latest mission for Control" she explained in a matter of fact tone "We think Greer set up an ambush for me and made up a relevant threat to get us to come out to that location…."

"So how did you get away?...What without The Machine an' all?..." asked Shaw and in response to Root's wide-eyed look of surprise, Shaw added. "Yeah, I know all about your break-up with The Machine…"

Root's eyes drifted into the abyss as she answered thoughtfully. "The Machine warned Finch and John about the ambush…."

"Good…." answered Shaw hoarsely, inviting the attention of Root's twinkling, inquisitive eyes, which Shaw found impossible to ignore. After staring into those eyes longer than was healthy for her mental state, Shaw cleared her throat awkwardly "Glad to hear…..The Machine is alive and kicking…" she added but the broken tone of her voice only invited further admiring gazes from Root.

Shaw sighed heavily and approached the bed, taking a seat beside Root.

"Tell me about Control and Samaritan…" she urged, her eyes focused on the floor in attempt to avoid being distracted by Root.

Mimicking Shaw, Root's eyes also settled on the floor and she spoke in a calming, factual tone as if narrating a story. "The flash drive you stole from Greer contains part of a code. We now know that this code is Control's anti-Samaritan software. We think Greer copied a part of it during Control's first attack on Samaritan. The mission now is to get a full copy of the software, so that we can understand how it broke Samaritan. The only way to get that is to get Control to run it again…."

"Hang on…" said Shaw and paused, pinching the bridge of her nose in deep thought. "If you were trapped here without The Machine, how do you know all that stuff about Harold and the flash drive?"

Root turned her body to face Shaw and tiled her head to the side. A large smile on her face mocked Shaw for even asking such a question.

"The first time I left this place on one of Control's missions I reached out to The Machine, which enabled Harold to track me…." she explained proudly, enjoying the memory. "After that Harry and John followed me on all my relevant missions. Once or twice Harry and I managed to catch some alone time, which was enough to relay some important messages from _Her_ …."

Shaw remained silent, taking her time to digest the newest information. Then, her determined and purposeful gaze settled on Root. "Root listen, I don't think Control is buying the whole Samaritan isn't broken thing. We went over it this morning for ages and she's not giving in. I think she's sus about something or she's playing a game of her own that we don't know about. Either way, I think we should get the hell outta here…."

A bittersweet smile emerged on Root's face. "Sweetie, all I want is to get out of here with you, but we can't...We have to get a copy of that software…"

"Root, it's too dangerous! Especially without The Machine!" argued Shaw in a raised voice. However as soon as she caught the mild look of surprise on Root's face, she paused, sighed and continued in a more subdued tone. "Root, do you really think that Control doesn't know about your dates with Harry?..."

Root's eyes widened as if the suggested possibility had not occurred to her previously. "But….the software…" she mumbled softly.

"Root, I think Control knows everything! The only reason she's not done anything with any of that intel is cos she's waiting for me to tell all about Samaritan. Once she gets that, there's no telling what she'll do…." argued Shaw. She paused and watched the focused and calculating expression on Root's face. When she felt that she was somehow winning the silent argument in Root's head, she continued. "Besides, I bet you and Finch can build your own kick-ass-Samaritan software. You just need to get focused and not spend your days babysitting me and Control…"

Root's attention returned to Shaw, but despite the reassuring smile on her face, the worry she felt was clearly evident in her eyes. "Sameen, escaping from here without The Machine will be even harder than staying…"

"I know…." answered Shaw, her eyes shining with sympathy "….but there was a time when we worked _together_ on cases like this…" she added with a short smile.

Leisurely, almost in slow-motion Root's mouth curved into a beaming smile and the more she remembered the more of that characteristic sparkle returned into her eyes. Shaw found herself absorbing Root's response in satisfied silence, her eyes scanning every feature fondly, as if committing the expression to memory.

"That was _so much_ fun…." replied Root with a warm smile, her eyes bouncing around Shaw's face, tenderly. "Do you remember the zookeeper number?..." asked Root after a short giggle.

"How could I forget?" replied Shaw with a grunt "You made me dress up as a penguin! That suit was like an oven and... being groped by little kids all day was not fun!..." she complained and then waved a reproachful finger at Root. "….and don't go blaming it on The Machine, I know it was your idea…"

"Rudy The Penguin…."said Root nostalgically. "One of us had to get close to our number at his workplace so that we could get in on all the gossip. It wasn't my fault that being the zoo's mascot was the only available vacancy …." she explained in the most innocent voice she could manage.

"Yeah but why did it have to be me?"

"We'll….you _are_ short…" replied Root and fought hard to hold back a giggle when Shaw's angry, pout and deep furrowed brows turned to face her.

"Really?...Personal insults?" said Shaw sternly, but the short smile at the corner of her mouth betrayed her true feelings "…..that's how you want to mark the reunion of our partnership?"

Root grinned, flashing that flirtatious, addictive smile as she shuffled closer to Shaw's body. "…and you're cute…." she muttered playfully and waited, letting her body linger in Shaw's personal space watching and giggling at Shaw's stern, but mildly amused frown.

"Nice try, but cute ain't gonna work…" answered Shaw with disgust, causing Root to laugh even harder.

Root moved another inch closer to Shaw. "Ok... how about hot?" she asked, whilst holding Shaw's unreadable gaze. Then, Root's come-hither bedroom eyes traveled up and down Shaw's body, in a long, slow and drawn-out journey, lingering here and there, every once in a while "…like really... really... hot…" she added in low and suggestive whisper.

Shaw's eyes dropped to Root's mouth, turning dark, fierce and angry, before she finally moved in for the kiss.

Shaw's kiss was intense and wild, driven by months of repressed lust and pure, desperate desire. She pulled at Root's clothes, urging Root to come closer, but Root provided the guidance that enabled Shaw to settle. Then, their kiss was deeply passionate, blissful, full of promises and oh-so seriously sexy, that neither of them heard the soft click of the door.

Shaw felt Root pull away from the kiss and a massive rush of disappointment flooded through her. Still breathless, she opened her eyes and found Root staring somewhere into the distance. Dreamily she followed the source of Root's distraction and that's when her eyes stumbled upon Control and her agent.

Still dazed from the kiss, Shaw didn't really register Control's arrival so her questioning eyes returned to Root, lingering on Root's every move because she just couldn't break away.

Root smiled gently and cupped the right side of Shaw's face. She leaned in towards Shaw's left ear and whilst hidden away from Control, fumbled between the bed-sheets behind Shaw. Then, she placed a soft kiss on the side of Shaw's neck and whispered in a stern and urgent tone.

"I'll get Control. The loser with the gun is yours…"

 _PS: Merry Christmas everyone!_


	19. Chapter 19: Just take this

_Big thanks to all who read and commented..._

 **CHAPTER NINETEEN: Just take….this…**

The dramatic change in Root's voice sent Shaw on a rapid, warped drop into reality. She turned to face Control, staring at the older woman in bewilderment, eyes wide and questioning.

"Agent Shaw.." said Control sternly "It's time to resume our talk…."

Initially, Shaw didn't respond. She narrowed her gaze, scanning the tall, muscular man beside Control in detail, whilst her mind calculated the best plan of attack. Then, she gave Control her best smile of compliance and advanced towards her captors.

As soon Shaw indicated her co-operation, Mr Agent began to fumble with a set of handcuffs, whilst Control turned away to reach for the door. Shaw took this opportunity to accelerate her approach. Fuelled with adrenaline and momentum, Shaw delivered a solid kick between Mr Agent's legs. While his hands were otherwise engaged, Shaw grabbed both of his guns from the strap on his belt, fired one against his chest and shoved the other against the back of Control's head.

"Don't move.." she warned, her voice deadly serious.

Meanwhile, Root sat on the bed with her legs crossed and her head tilted, watching Shaw's take down of Mr Agent with pride and appreciation.

Shaw listened intently for any sign of movement behind her, expecting Root to proceed with whatever was the next part of her plan, but she heard nothing. Instead Shaw thought she could feel Root smiling. _Feel….her smiling?._ …Shaw pouted her lips and scowled.

"Are you going to join us?" she mumbled through gritted teeth "Or do I have to do everything around here?"

Root didn't wait to be asked twice and arrived beside Shaw, holding a syringe with a great, long needle which captivated Shaw's attention instantly. Shaw stared, open-mouthed unable to fathom how exactly Root had acquired her new accessory. Root grinned deviously, her shimmering eyes meeting Shaw with a vast array of exhilarating promises which silenced Shaw into helpless obedience.

Root tapped the syringe three times and inserted it into Control's neck with surgical precision. Then she walked around to face her opponent, meeting Control's gaze with a determined glare and a calm, satisfied smile. She watched with approval as Control's body finally succumbed to the drugs and fell to the floor.

In response to Shaw's somewhat bemused, raised brow, Root shrugged casually. "I got a little inspired by my visit to the good Doctor.." she said as she examined the empty syringe proudly. "I was a little short on ideas on how to get close to Control but…. then you came along.." she added playfully as she met Shaw's gaze with a reserved smile.

"Gee, thanks. I'm glad I could help out.." replied Shaw flippantly, in a half amused tone. "So what did you give her?"

Root examined Control's body briefly and threw the syringe aside. "Oh just a little pick-me-up, to get her in the mood for talking to us.."

Root proceeded to drag Control's semi-conscious body to the foot of the bed nearest to the door. Shaw grabbed a set of handcuffs from Mr Agent and joined Root. Both women lifted Control's upper body, positioning her so that her back rested on the southern corner of the bed frame. Finally, Root twisted Control's hands behind her back and clipped them to the metallic bed frame with Mr Agent's handcuffs.

Shaw was the first to rise back to her feet. "Not that I'm not diggin' the whole spontaneous-Root-without-The- Machine thing you've got going….but would you mind filling me in on what we're doing here?"

A small smile emerged on Root's face. "We're leaving, just like you wanted Sameen…" she whispered mystically.

"So what's with all the melodrama?" questioned Shaw with a deep scowl as she waved her hand between the used syringe and Control's limp body.

"A short pit-stop before we go…." answered Root sweetly and bent down to search Control's pockets. "We're going to initiate the second run of Control's software against Samaritan but in order to do that I need her password….and since S _he's_ not here to help us, we'll have to do things the old fashioned way…"

Root found a set of three, small keys and a phone and placed both items on the floor beside her. Then, she slapped Control's face gently and received an irritated groan in return.

"It's time.." whispered Root softly. She pinched the ID card hanging from the side of Control's jacket, picked up the phone and keys and stood up to face Shaw.

Root cocked her head and smiled sweetly at Shaw. "I'm going to need a laptop, sweetie."

Shaw scanned the room quickly and shook her head. "No way, I'm not leaving you.."

Both women were equally surprised by Shaw's uncharacteristically sensitive reply. It startled Shaw, the ease with which those words left her mouth and how acutely she actually meant them. However she was relieved to find that Root had ignored the slip-up.

"Take a right at the door, go down two flights of stairs and search for a room entitled "Operations Command". I suspect Control's nest is somewhere behind that door and you'll need this to get in.." explained Root as she handed the keys and Control's ID card to Shaw.

Shaw raised an eyebrow, a bemused look on her face. "So you don't want just any laptop….you want _Control's_ laptop?"

Root's head tilted and she smiled, her eyes shimmering with mischief. "Smart _and_ pretty…."

Shaw rolled her eyes. "Fine! Just - .." she stopped abruptly, her gaze lingering on Root's shimmering and super-powerful eyes. _Just, be careful…._ Shaw shook her head and sighed with mild irritation.

"Just…take this.." she said and shoved one of her guns into Root's hand.

Root tucked the gun into the back of her pants and watched Shaw's disgruntled walk-out with a satisfied smile.

It took Shaw longer than expected to reach Control's office. Operations Command was a room full of nerds and navigation through it required some creative strategizing on Shaw's part. She knew it wouldn't be long before one of the nerds discovered her ruse, so she made the laptop her first priority when she finally made entry into Control's office.

Her office had no windows, no carpet and no decorations of any kind. To the right of the door was a small seating area, consisting of a two-seater couch and a coffee table. Directly in front of Shaw was Control's desk. It was a long, wooden desk, fully packed with a series of monitors, but no laptop. Shaw ran up to the desk and jiggled the drawers beneath it. Upon finding them locked, Shaw fumbled with the set of keys Root had given her and was finally successful at gaining entry.

Shaw found the laptop in the top drawer sitting on a stack of files marked "Classified." She grabbed it and began to shut the drawer when something stopped her. Curious, Shaw sat down on Control's leather chair and picked up the first file. Almost immediately Shaw discovered that many parts of the file were redacted which made it hard to contextualize the information she read, but she continued her study of all the remaining files, hoping that some of the information at least could be useful later.

Minutes later Shaw dumped the last redacted file on the desk with a disappointing sigh, mildly irritated at her inability to make use of this information in her current situation. She proceeded to close the last drawer when she noticed an old, worn out photograph.

The photo depicted a younger Control having lunch with a man with his back to the camera. Shaw chewed her lip thoughtfully, puzzled by its peculiar depiction. _Why would Control keep a photo of herself having lunch? This can't be hers._

Casually Shaw flipped it over and that's when she saw it.

The inscription was brief and written in faint blue handwriting; _Project Orion_.


	20. Chapter 20: Is she dead?

Thanks for reading...

 **CHAPTER TWENTY: Is she dead?**

Shaw re-entered Root's room and paused abruptly, a few steps shy of the doorway. Her hands tightened and her jaws clenched repeatedly as her eyes observed Control.

Control's white shirt was covered in blood and a faint trace of boot prints. Her face no longer resembled any normal shape; she had several fractures to her jaw and nose and blood poured freely from her mouth. In the current silence it was possible to hear Control's faint struggles for breath; the only indication that she was still alive.

"Perfect timing…" announced Root cheerily, interrupting Shaw from her thoughts.

Shaw met Root's gaze with a blank stare, watching absentmindedly as Root wiped the blood of her hands with an old rag. Then, Root dumped the rag on the floor and walked towards Shaw hurriedly, her face animated with excitement and anticipation. She snatched the laptop from Shaw's grip and settled back on the bed, typing frantically as soon as the laptop switched on.

Shaw exhaled a tense breath, grabbed the gun from the back of her pants and fired one shot into Control's shoulder. Control groaned out loud whilst Root jumped to her feet, mostly startled by the noise. Coming to a stop beside Shaw, Root stared at her in stunned silence, unable to comprehend Shaw's motivations.

Shaw could see Root's puzzled and somewhat fearful expression at the corner of her eye, but decided to ignore it because only Root was capable of reasoning with her, only Root could stop her from doing what she was about to do and she wasn't sure that she wanted to be stopped.

Shaw crouched down and pressed the gun against the bottom of Control's chin. "So listen up, cos I'm only gonna give you one chance and one chance only to make it out of this alive…." she threatened in a venomous whisper, speaking directly into Control's ear.

Shaw paused, observing Control for signs of understanding, but Control remained silent and her eyes were shut. All Shaw could hear was Root's strained breathing behind her, distracting her; it's as if Root was some kind of unspoken voice of reason.

"Shaw ?..." questioned Root in a desperately frightened tone that surprised Shaw.

"Don't you have a lap top to play with?" she snapped and regretted it almost instantly. Shaw closed her eyes and exhaled a heavy sigh, giving herself time to calm down and prepare some kind of apology, but when she was ready to give one, Root was no longer visible. Shaw heard footsteps behind her and despite the feel of Root's eyes on her back; Shaw was thankful that Root had given her the space she craved.

Shaw pulled out the photograph from her back pocket and held it in front of Control's eyes. "What's Project Orion?"

Control's swollen eyes fluttered open, which gave Shaw the encouragement she needed to continue her line of questioning.

"This picture.." continued Shaw, shoving the photo roughly into Control's face. "Why do you have it and what's it got to do with Project Orion?"

Control's eyes jumped from the photo to Shaw's face. She opened her mouth to speak but was only able to cough up a pool of blood. Shaw reached out to support the back of Control's head, letting it rest on her palm, which enabled Control to exhale a large breath and speak in a broken whisper.

"Orion was….my first mission.." muttered Control in between multiple gurgles of blood.

"What was the mission?..."

"To frame a man…. for murder.."

Shaw smirked angrily. "Sure, why not?" she mocked, in a scolding tone. "And the photo?..."

Control's eyes focused on the picture and she spent a long minute staring at it, before she spoke again. "His defense attorney...She smelled the…. frame up and started….. digging into Project Orion.."

Shaw's heart rate increased as her wide, angry eyes stared at Control's contorted face. She knew enough about Control to know the answer to her next question and she almost couldn't bring herself to ask, but she knew she had to; to know once and for all.

"This defense attorney.." she stated roughly into Control's face, as she pulled Control's hair, causing the older woman's head to bend backwards further than was comfortable. "Did you kill her?"

Control's face creased in pain but she said nothing.

"Answer me!" demanded Shaw forcefully. Desperate for confirmation, Shaw shoved the nozzle of her gun into Control's fresh shoulder wound. Control screamed out in agony whilst Shaw watched with an unfazed expression.

"I said answer me!"

"Yeeesss!" screamed Control as the nozzle of the gun dug deeper into her wound. "Yes, I killed her!"

Shaw pulled away abruptly, breaking all physical contact with Control as if the other woman had spontaneously caught fire. She sat back on her knees, watching as Control fought to not drown in her own blood. A few seconds later, Control's head fell forward and there were no more struggles for anything. A strange, eerie, silence filled the room as Shaw continued to stare at Control with vacant eyes.

Shaw wasn't sure how much time had passed until she heard movement behind her. Once again Root's tall frame emerged at the corner of her eye, only this time Shaw was grateful for Root's presence beside her; somehow it was comforting. Root's long, slim fingers reached out to touch the side of Control's neck.

"Is she dead?" asked Shaw in a wavering tone, unsure why she was asking or why she even cared.

"No Sam, she's not dead…" replied Root with a somber sigh.

Shaw turned her head to look at Root, but her eyes stared right through her. She felt strangely numb, a feeling that was familiar but one that had been missing within her lately. It wasn't that long ago that she would have shot Control without a second's thought, but such a decision didn't feel so natural anymore.

Shaw awoke from her thoughts when she felt Root's hands clasp around her wrists and before she knew it, she was on her feet, staring into Root's stressed and teary eyes.

"Sweetie…" said Root, her voice sympathetic and soft but stern "I think you've got some explaining to do…"

Shaw nodded in agreement, unsure of why she should explain her actions, but felt like she needed to especially to Root.

"That defense attorney she murdered…." stated Shaw flatly whilst waving her hand with the gun in Control's direction "was my mother…"

"Oh Sameen…." muttered Root in a cracked whisper and approached Shaw with open arms, but Shaw stepped away and the angry, silent warning flashing in her eyes, stopped Root dead in her tracks.

"I'm sorry…" added Root helplessly as she fought against the overwhelming urge to wrap her arms around Shaw.

Shaw shrugged flippantly. "My mother has been missing for the past twenty years. I was expecting this. " Shaw exhaled a deep, tired breath as she glared at the photograph in her hand. Her eyes lingered on it for a brief moment before she threw it onto Control's battered body. "I spent most of my adult life trying to find out the truth, but everything was just a dead end and I almost gave up…"

Root listened intently; hanging on to Shaw's every word and every hidden meaning with scary accuracy. "But then Greer came along…" she pondered.

Shaw's detached stare met Root and she nodded in agreement gently. "I only got a brief glimpse of Greer's file, but I guess it was enough. Project Orion was what led me to piece the whole thing together…" she paused and her eyes drifted to Control. Shaw stared at her in contemplative silence, a look of loathing on her face.

The laptop on the bed behind Shaw made a shallow noise, causing her to wake with a start and glance at it with alarm. "Oh crap Samaritan…." she said hurriedly, waving her hands at the laptop eagerly. "Did you run it? Is it working…the anti-Samaritan thing?"

Root chewed her bottom lip, her expression devoid of that characteristic coy smile and her eyes, missing their unmistakable twinkle. With a reluctant sigh, she replied. "Yeah Sameen. It's working as we speak." but her tone lacked its usual playfulness.

Shaw stared at Root, aimlessly, a far-away look in her eye. "That's good…" she whispered absentmindedly and allowed herself to get away with her thoughts once again.

 _I don't know why or how but just then, all my thoughts were replaced with this one permanent and persistent feeling. Maybe its cos really, deep down I'm just a heartless killer, or maybe it's cos I'm having a bad day, either way… the only thing I could feel and the only thing I could think about at this moment in time…was the weight of the gun in my hand._

 _My fingers tightened around it and it fit my hand like a glove. My hand began to itch in anticipation of the thrill that I knew was coming and my index finger shifted to its rightful place…..and then….._

 _I lifted the gun and pulled the trigger._


	21. Chapter 21: It's ok Root I can do this

_Huge thanks to everyone who is still reading and who has reviewed. Your comments have inspired me to keep writing this which lately has been hard to do, so thanks! (I know it may not seem like it, but I am making slow and steady progress with this )….so here's the next chapter..._

 **CHAPTER TWENTY ONE: It's okay Root. I can do this…**

Shaw heard the gunshot, she saw the bullet enter Control's forehead but somehow the whole event felt strangely surreal, like some strange out-of-body experience. She stared into Control's expressionless eyes, her shaking arm outstretched, her green fingers fighting hard to not clasp around the trigger once again. Consciously, Shaw acknowledged that Control was dead, but she couldn't find a way to shake off that overwhelming desire to shoot her over and over again.

However, Root understood Shaw's mental struggles long before Shaw could figure them out. She took a gentle step towards Shaw and placed a soft hand on Shaw's outstretched arm. "Sweetie, give me the gun…." she whispered into Shaw's ear, her words soft and reassuring, hugging Shaw from afar. "It's over…" she added.

Shaw remained silent but she submitted, leaving Root to guide her arm down to her side. Root collected the gun from Shaw's hand with a few soft strokes of her long fingers, her anxious eyes never leaving Shaw's face.

Feeling the weightlessness, Shaw's gaze dropped to her empty hands. She examined them with deep puzzlement and then looked up at Root with a million silent questions. Root held her breath; never before had she seen such raw, open, emotion in those magical brown eyes.

Suddenly, the familiar click of the door filled the silence in the room. Root spun on her heels and aimed the gun at the door, making sure that her body protected Shaw from any oncoming gunfire.

"John?" mumbled Shaw with surprise whilst peering from behind Root's shoulder. "Finch?..." she added as both men entered the room.

"Good to see you too Shaw.." replied John, who gave the room a quick visual inspection and tucked his gun into the back of his pants.

"Oh dear…" said Finch as his gaze examined Control's body "It appears that we've arrived a little too late, Mr Reese."

Root closed the door and turned to Finch with a rather nervous expression. "Harold, what are you doing here?"

"The Machine kinda spat out her number.." stated John flatly whilst pointing at Control and immediately received a silent, reprimanding glare from Finch.

"Wait, what?" asked Shaw as she neared John's position "You came here to _save_ her?"

"Harold, what's going on?" probed Root once again, hoping that a more lengthy explanation would prevent Shaw from hurting John.

Finch exhaled a deep sigh and pulled out a transparent plastic bag from his coat pocket. Root grinned at the small ear-piece inside it. She snatched the bag from Finch's hand and inserted the small implement into her ear with trembling hands.

"Oh great…" said Shaw, her voice dripping in sarcasm "Here comes the human-machine reunion…" she added with an accompanying eye-roll.

Root smiled as she noted the bitter tone of Shaw's voice, but remained silent. She closed her eyes and exhaled a long slow breath of relief as The Machine launched into a long explanation of recent events.

Shaw fought hard to give Root the time she needed to gain all the information they were missing, but that silly the-machine-is-talking-to-me smile on Root's face would drive a Saint to insanity.

"Well?" questioned Shaw impatiently, interrupting Root's rendezvous with The Machine.

Hesitantly, Root's gaze met Shaw. "The Machine's plan against Samaritan required Control _and_ her software..." stated Root flatly, knowing full well that this wasn't going to calm Shaw.

"Seriously?" mocked Shaw, turning about to address both Root and Finch. "You're telling me that your all-seeing-super-God needs _her_ to defeat another one of its kind?"

"Sameen, it doesn't matter anymore…" explained Root gently, her tone stern yet comforting. Then her gaze broke away and she announced "We need an escape route…"

Whilst Root silently studied The Machine's proposed escape options, John observed Control's body with a grim expression. "What the hell happened here anyway?" he asked.

"I shot her…" answered Shaw flatly.

"Oh Miss Shaw…" muttered Finch, his voice laced with disappointment. "I wish you wouldn't have done that..."

Shaw swallowed an imaginary lump in her throat and her gaze dropped to her feet. However an unexpected commotion behind the door quickly awoke everyone from their thoughts.

John pressed an ear to the door. "Sounds like we've got company..."

Shaw turned to face Root. "I'm gonna need my gun back…" she said as her eyes shyly met Root's.

Root didn't answer, the hesitation she felt clearly evident on her face. "It's okay Root. I can do this…"added Shaw confidently and offered Root a short, but honest smile.

Despite her reservations Root gave the gun to Shaw with the best supporting and encouraging smile she could muster.

Then, Root approached the laptop that was still sat on the bed before them. "We can't leave the premises until the software download is complete…" she explained, her eyes dancing about the screen anxiously.

John and Shaw exchanged exasperated glances "Ok, any ideas on when that will be?" asked John

Finch read the computer screen over Root's shoulder. "40% remaining…."

"I don't know what that means.." muttered Shaw as she finished counting her ammo supply "but I doubt I have 40% worth of bullets.."

"That's okay.." announced Root in a confident, self-assured tone, catching Shaw's attention quickly. "You won't need many…." she added with a wide smile and that twinkle in her eye that had only one possible meaning.

Shaw rolled her eyes. "Let me guess.." she said mockingly with a lopsided smile " _She_ has a plan.."


	22. Chapter 22: Let's complete the mission

_Thanks for reading..._

 **CHAPTER TWENTY TWO: Let's complete the mission**

"Shaw, you have to escort Harold and the laptop outta here…." stated Root in a non-negotiable manner and proceeded to search through her pockets. She pulled out a mobile phone which she had confiscated from Control and handed it to Shaw. "There is an underground passageway that will aid your escape. _She_ will guide you through it and Fusco will meet you on the other side. That should give you enough time to complete the download."

"Wait, what about you…and John?" asked Shaw with a piercing glare of displeasure.

"John and I will get some playtime with Control's friends…" replied Root with her usual mischievous smile before her eyes suddenly jumped to the ceiling. Directly above them was an air-vent. Root's smile widened, causing her teammates to follow her gaze. "Speaking of playtime…"

Root turned to John and quickly scanned him from head to toe. "I need a lift please…" she purred sweetly along with an exaggerated smile.

John took a couple of long strides and arrived directly underneath the air-vent. Root climbed onto John's shoulders, dismantled the plastic cover and pulled herself up, inside the vent. A few minutes later, the team heard a series of rapid gunshots somewhere in the distance. Then the door to their room flew open.

Root's tall frame stood in the doorway with a couple of handguns in each hand and several, more advanced weapons draped across her shoulders. She raised a teasing brow at Shaw with a short, knowing smile, almost daring Shaw to not be impressed with her latest acquisitions.

Shaw shook her head with a secretive smirk.

Root advanced towards John. "The majority of our playmates are coming from the right end of this hallway…" she explained as she gave the bulk of her fire power to John. "For now, it's clear, but more trouble will be arriving shortly…"

John gave a brisk nod of understanding, collected the weapons and disappeared into the hallway.

Then, Root exhaled a long, reflective breath. She stuffed her hands into her back pockets and made a slow, reluctant turn to face Shaw.

"You and Harold are heading left here, down the stairs and into the basement…." she explained as she cut the distance between herself and Shaw. "From then on, _She_ will help you…." she added and pointed to the phone still clasped inside Shaw's hand.

Shaw nodded in understanding but her eyes were vacant. She shifted her weight from foot to foot as her fingers fiddled with the phone. "Root, look about before…" she said shyly, her voice uncharacteristically hoarse. She paused and winced, clearly struggling to find the words. Her gaze shifted to Control. She glared at the dead woman whilst chewing at her bottom lip.

"Root, I'm sorry…If I….. freaked you out or whatever…"said Shaw as she lifted her anxious eyes to meet Root's.

Root's heart clutched in her chest, the emotional nature of Shaw's words overwhelmed her. She cupped one side of Shaw's face and leaned into her, letting her forehead gently rest against Shaw's. "Sameen, you don't need to apologize..."she whispered softly beside Shaw's ear.

Shaw closed her eyes and inhaled a deep, tired breath. Root cursed silently. All she wanted to do was take Shaw home; her pain was still so raw. She most definitely didn't want to send Shaw on another errand. _Now was not the time for stealthy escape plans and unpredictable gunfights, dammit!_

"Root!" came John's tense warning from the hallway, waking Root from her reverie.

Despite her frustrations at being interrupted, Root sprang into action. She shoved another handgun into Shaw's hands and the laptop from the bed into Finch's. Then, she marched into the hallway and fired a couple of shots to help John clear any immediate threats.

"Sameen go!... _Now_!..." urged Root during a moment of respite from the gunfire.

Shaw stood still, her eyes hurt and confused the mental struggle between head and heart clearly evident on her face.

Root gave Shaw her most encouraging smile. "We'll be right behind you, I promise…"

Shaw's expression was dubious but when she heard another set of enemy footsteps, she drew her weapon, grabbed Finch's hand and advanced towards the escape path.

Sometime later, Shaw and Finch arrived at a door marked with the greatest "do not enter" sign, Shaw had ever seen. Shaw sighed and checked the ammo supply in her gun. "How long left?" she asked pointing to the lap top in Finch's hands.

"10% remaining…"

Shaw ditched her gun and pulled out a spare from the back of her jeans. Then, she checked the phone but when the instructions from The Machine remained unchanged, she shrugged and fired a shot at the lock of the "do not enter" door.

The eerie surroundings in front of her were illuminated by a soft glow from a nearby lantern. After a quick once-over, Shaw realized that she was staring into a dirt tunnel. It was hot, damp and smelly. It looked like something someone constructed during a prison escape, but at least it was high enough for them to walk through.

Shaw jumped down the five or so steps from the door to the ground and picked up the lantern. She raised her weapon and cleared the immediate area, despite no warnings from The Machine. Finch followed and eventually they hobbled along the tunnel side by side.

Shaw stole a quick glance at Finch from the corner of her eye.

"Still giving me the silent treatment, eh?!...You're mad, I get it, but what happened with Control would have happened sooner or later. I can't explain it Finch, because you will never understand and that's good…" she paused and inhaled a long, thoughtful breath, reflecting on her thoughts. "It's good, because it means you're not…. like me…"

Finch did not reply, his attention squarely focused on the laptop.

"I'm just sorry that I messed up your Samaritan-war plans…" she continued in a tone that held a tinge of guilt. "I didn't know Control was needed…."

Finch's eyes shifted towards Shaw, cautiously. "Would you have let her live?... had you known?"

Shaw shrugged. "Probably not..."

Finch gave Shaw a very obvious, reprimanding glare. "You're not helping your case here, Miss Shaw…."

Shaw sighed thoughtfully, tiredly. She checked the phone but the instructions from The Machine remained. _Walk to the end of the tunnel._ "How much left to go?" she asked.

" 7%..."

After another short silence, Finch sighed. "Miss Shaw, you have become a vital member of The Team…" he said with his gaze confidently matching Shaw's. " It's just after all the time you have spent with us, I had hoped….that you would have grown out of your old ways…"

"But I have!" argued Shaw with a short smile. "Harold, I promise you, I've kneecapped more people in the time I've worked for you than in all my previous jobs put together…"

Finch let out an exasperated sigh, looking at Shaw from beneath his glasses. Shaw giggled.

"You're wrong you know…." she said in a serious, rather emotional tone a moment later. " _You_ taught me to care…."

Taken aback by her honesty, Finch was a little lost for words so he replied with a brief, appreciative smile.

Then, a loud, unexpected noise, somewhere ahead of their location awoke them from their thoughts.

Shaw checked the phone and frowned with confusion; The Machine had not warned her of any hostiles. She raised her gun and jogged forward until she located the origin of the intruding sound.

Several feet ahead of them, Shaw found a door similar to the one they shot through earlier. She placed the lantern beside it, aimed her gun and patiently waited for the intruder to emerge.

"What the hell?" she murmured in awe.

Their uninvited guest had just slashed a vertical hole through the center of the solid metal sheet.

" _Mr Reese_?" exclaimed Finch from behind Shaw's shoulder.

John's head emerged in the hole and Shaw proceeded to help John climb out.

"Thanks…." said John with a soft nod at Shaw. He dropped the fire axe in his hand and turned to Finch. "How long?"

"2%..."

"Good. Come on let's go..." he urged hurriedly.

John grabbed the lantern and proceeded to walk ahead. Finch followed John without further persuasion, but Shaw stood still. She stared at the empty hole with furrowed brows and an angry pout of the lips.

"Where is Root?" she demanded harshly.

John stopped abruptly and exhaled a long breath. "Shaw, we don't have time for this. We need to go…now…."

Shaw's eyes narrowed and she studied John methodically. "Root's not coming, is she?" she asked with a hurt smirk.

"Shaw, remember the mission. We have ours and Root has hers…."

With a clenched jaw, Shaw gazed longingly at the empty hole in the door. "Fine…." she said through gritted teeth "Let's complete the mission…"


	23. Chapter 23: Dammit Root!

_Thanks for reading and thanks for your comments!_

 **CHAPTER TWENTY THREE: Dammit Root!**

After a lengthy drive, Team Machine returned to the subway, tired but relatively unharmed. Although the inside of the subway appeared to remain untouched, John and Shaw took turns to complete precautionary walks around the block, keeping an eye on anything suspicious.

John returned to the subway from his first patrol of the streets and met Shaw as soon as he descended the subway steps. Shaw stood with her hands crossed and her eyes completely focused on Finch and his ever-increasing computer station. Absentmindedly, John mimicked her and for a while they stood side by side, watching as the frantic genius before them played computer Jenga.

"Good walk?" asked Shaw

"For now, yeah…."

There was another silence. Finch was in the process of recovering some kind of computer junk from an old box. Bear was keen to help out and stuck his snout in the box, slobbering all over its contents, much to Finch's annoyance.

"The mission is complete…" said Shaw suddenly, her tone detached and serious.

John glanced at Shaw, thoughtfully. "Root told me to return to New York without her. She said The Machine was sending her on another mission..." he explained without being prompted on the subject.

"No…" she replied coldly "I want to know _exactly_ what happened..."

John glanced at Shaw with an offended frown; he never needed to explain his actions to her before but one quick look at Shaw's defensive, twitchy posture and John realized that this wasn't about him.

"After you left, there was a shootout. It took a while and most of our fire power, but we cleared the area. We began our approach towards the tunnel but Root suggested we take a different route…"

"Why?" she asked with a raised brow.

John shrugged casually. "Something about it being safer because we wouldn't be exposed to as many enemy combatants… "

A puzzled expression covered Shaw's face and she pouted her lips in thought. John took this as permission to continue. "I was up front and I moved through all the rooms quickly, hoping to get to the tunnel before anyone else came shooting at us. At some point I turned back and Root wasn't there. I retraced my steps and found her in some doctor's office reading files…."

As soon as the words left John's mouth, Shaw's fingers gripped around his elbow, pulling him to face her. "Was this the place with the creepy glass walls and white floors?" she demanded impatiently.

"Yeah…."

"Dammit Root!" she exclaimed as her thoughts finally clicked into place. "I'm going to kill her the minute I get my hands on her!"

Bear and Finch turned about to face her, wide eyed and open mouthed. Shaw caught Finch's disapproving stare from the corner of her eye.

"Oh don't look at me like that…." she mumbled in Finch's direction.

"Shaw, what's going on?" asked John

Shaw hesitated, unsure of why she wasn't able to supply a quick answer. On the face of it her fear was irrational. Root had gone rogue on missions many times before and she would probably be fine, especially if The Machine was helping her. So then why did this feel so different to before? _Probably because reading medical files wasn't The Machine's idea..._

"Nothing…." she replied in a resigned tone. "It's just Root…..being an annoying pain in the ass as usual…."

"Miss Shaw…" prompted Finch causing Shaw to turn around. He approached her whilst dangling a set of keys. "Go to the safe house. Get some sleep and a decent meal…" he urged sympathetically. "The last few months have been quite an ordeal for you…"

Shaw frowned thoughtfully; she had forgotten about the roller-coaster ride she had endured lately. Given everything that's happened, decent food and sleep hadn't even crossed her mind.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice filled with uncertainty but her eyes glued to the keys in Finch's hand. "What about your….well you know…computer stuff?"

"We have a copy of Control's anti-Samaritan software. However, now the challenge lies in getting The Machine to use it…." he paused thoughtfully, glanced behind him and turned back with a heavy sigh. "I'm not sure how long it will take me to accomplish that particular challenge…..so please go and rest..."

"Go..." added John "I'll keep an eye on things here…"

Shaw's fingers clasped around the keys and she smiled. "OK, but call me as soon as you need anything…."

Later that evening Shaw was sprawled out on the couch, recovering from an extraordinary intake of pizza and beer. She had attempted to take several naps during the day, but failed miserably; her mind always drifting to Root. Now, with the help of boring evening TV, Shaw was finally succumbing to sleep.

And then it came. A noise. It was ever so soft and almost inaudible but it was there… _Click. Click. Click._

Shaw's head shot up and she glanced at the door. Somebody was picking the locks. Her eyes scanned the room for her gun and she cursed silently when she couldn't find it. _Oh but a knife would do just fine_ …..

Shaw smiled, picked up the knife and approached the door on tip toes, hiding herself in the shadows just beside it. Then, she waited with baited breath and a little excitement; eager to teach someone a lesson about disturbing her sleep.

Seconds later the door opened and Shaw grabbed the intruder before they even had a chance to step into the room. She threw the female stranger against the door, pinned her against it with all her body weight and pressed the knife against the woman's throat.

"Hello to you too, sweetie…." whispered that unmistakable, unforgettable voice.


	24. Chapter 24: Take them off

_Hi all, I am so sorry for the long break since I lasted posted this. Lots of work and boring life stuff got in the way, but I'm on it now and hope to post this more regularly. Thanks for reading!_

 **CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR: Take them off**

"Root…."

Shaw pulled back, as if she'd been electrocuted.

She questioned whether this was some drunken dream, but one look into Root's glistening apologetic eyes and she immediately dismissed the thought.

Root smiled shyly. "The Machine told me you were here…" she stated softly.

Shaw glared at Root defensively, as a mixture of emotions flooded her head. The relief she felt at seeing Root alive was short-lived and was soon replaced by anger. Shaw's eyes narrowed and her jaws clenched shut.

"And did the Machine also tell you to raid the doctor's office?" asked Shaw bitterly, her eyes piercing through Root like a knife.

Silence.

Root shifted nervously on her feet. "No…" she whispered warily and her eyes dropped to the floor.

"You promised me that you'd be right behind us…"

"I also promised you that I'd find out what Control did to you in that hospital …" replied Root in a tone that was no longer defensive, but self-assured and assertive. "…and that was my last chance…" she added somberly.

Shaw smirked as she shook her head in disbelief. "So you never intended to leave with us?"

"No…" came Root's unashamed reply.

"So you tricked me…" concluded Shaw in disgust " _and_ you lied to me…"

Another tense silence.

Then, Root squared her shoulders, raised her chin just a little and bought her sparkly, confident eyes to meet Shaw's. "Yes…" she answered flatly, completely unfazed.

 _What the hell? No denial, no apologies, no defense….just a yes…._

Shaw cursed under her breath. She should be angry. She should be annoyed. What she most certainly shouldn't be… is impressed…..and …turned-on….

 _Shit, I need a drink!_

Shaw she shook her head, exhaled a frustrated breath and headed for Finch's liquor cabinet in the northwest corner of the dining room.

"Sam, wait…" urged Root as she followed Shaw, coming to a stop just a few feet behind her.

"You could have told me about your plans…" interrupted Shaw as she poured herself a large glass of whiskey. "I thought we were a team, Root…"

"We are!" replied Root and her hand instinctively reached out to grab Shaw's, but Shaw's body tensed, causing Root to notice her mistake. She sighed softly. "I had to do this alone. I wanted you to be safe and outta of that place as quickly as possible. We only just got you back and I couldn't lose you again….. I _need_ you Sameen…" she finished tenderly.

Shaw closed her eyes and drunk the remaining alcohol in her glass.

"When you were with Samaritan, John and I spent some time on a stakeout working a number…." spoke Root again as she inched a step closer to Shaw. "That evening, John told me that he continued to work for Harold despite everything that's happened, because Harold had given him a purpose….." she paused and her eyes scanned Shaw's body tenderly as if committing it to memory. "Straight after that, I realized that _you_ …..are my purpose…"

Shaw swallowed an imaginary lump in her throat, unsure as to whether it was the alcohol or Root's words that were making it burn. She inhaled a deep breath and turned to face Root, her stern gaze meeting Root's. "Too many people have died because of me; I just don't want you to be one of them…"

She turned away almost as soon as the words were out, because she didn't want to be drawn-in by Root's glistening eyes; an event that was almost inevitable. So she hugged the whiskey bottle with the crook of one arm, grabbed the glass with the other and began a slow hobble back to the living room couch.

Shaw fell onto the couch and hurriedly filled her entire whiskey tumbler with alcohol. Damn Root for being so irritating…. and annoying… and sensitive….. and comforting….

 _You're my purpose…..I need you Sameen…_

After a long and uncomfortable silence Shaw heard the shuffle of soft footsteps behind her. She turned her head towards Root, just a little.

"I'm going to grab a shower…" stated Root flatly before she disappeared into the corridor.

Shaw exhaled a long breath, finding relief in having sometime alone to unravel her conflicting emotions.

A few whiskey's later, a sudden slam of the door startled Shaw from her brief flirt with sleep. She cursed when the empty whiskey glass fell from her hand and rolled along the floor.

Shaw rolled her eyes with an exaggerated sigh of annoyance. She glared at the glass offensively, before she decided that she was going to attempt to reach it from her current position on the couch. She stretched her body across the arm-rest to pick up the glass but before she could grab hold of it, a pair of long, slender and very naked legs appeared in front of her eyes.

In confused wonderment, Shaw's eyes made a slow and curious journey along Root's body, weaving their way along every curve with breathless excitement. Draped in a cream towel, Root stood in the doorway, innocently drying her hair and completely oblivious to Shaw's wayward thoughts.

 _Close your mouth Shaw…._

Quickly, Shaw collected the whiskey glass of the floor and set it on the coffee table in front her with hands that were way too unsteady for her liking. Then, she sat back into the couch, folded her arms across her chest and focused her eyes directly at the TV.

"You know…" began Root as she dumped the wet hair towel on a nearby chair "I've been thinking…." she said in that happy, skipping voice of hers that was so damn difficult for Shaw to ignore.

"Uh-huh…" muttered Shaw distractedly because Root's featherweight body just lazily dropped onto the couch beside her.

Absentmindedly, Shaw's head tilted towards Root. Effortlessly, Root crossed her never-ending legs and the cream towel rode up even higher along her thighs.

Shaw ran her tongue across her lips.

An oblivious Root continued her monologue. "You're angry and you need to let it all out. So I've decided that I'm going to be your punching bag, so you can take it all out on me. Punish me all you want Sameen…." explained Root in a casual, philosophical tone.

 _Argghhhh….Okay, time to end this…_

Shaw exhaled an exasperated breath. "Don't you think you should put some clothes on?" she asked curtly as she turned her body to face Root. "You know, before you catch hypothermia or something…" she added sheepishly.

Silence.

Root sat on the couch with one elbow resting on its back and her head cocked to the side. Every now and then, her finger twirled little rings in her damp hair. A reserved smile covered her semi-flushed face and her brows furrowed in deep thought. Her picture perfect, girl-next-door appearance captivated Shaw and she found herself surprisingly calm and content, watching Root from afar with a fond smile.

But then Root's eyes met Shaw's and all Shaw could see in them was disappointment. "You're right; it's getting kinda cold in here…" said Root halfheartedly as she offered Shaw a short, forced smile. " I'll go find those clothes…"

Then, in three quick strides Root was gone, leaving Shaw totally dumbfounded and unexpectedly heartbroken. It was in that moment that Shaw realized the enormity of her mistake.

Memories of Root's towel-clad body flooded Shaw's mind. Her hands burned at the thought of touching Root without interruptions, without hesitations, without doubts.

Shaw marched through the hallway with a stern pout of the lips and a piercing i-want-you glare. She pushed open the door of the only lit room and found Root standing opposite her, by the wardrobe, dressed in black lace panties and a half-buttoned, red shirt.

Shaw's eyes absorbed Root's half clothed body with breathless anticipation and she groaned loudly as she thought of the promises it offered.

Root's eyes landed on Shaw with surprise, having just heard Shaw's presence in the room. She raised a questioning brow alongside an amused smirk in response to Shaw's predatory stare.

"I changed my mind about the clothes…." stated Shaw hoarsely. "Take them off. Take them off, now!"


	25. Chapter 25: Morning Root

_As always, thanks for reading and reviewing._

 **CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE: Morning Root.**

The next morning, Root awoke to the early rays of sunshine seeping through the windows. She was greeted by the enticing sight of Shaw's bare back. Root grinned wickedly as her mind drifted back to the previous evening.

She stretched a hand to touch Shaw, but paused before her hand made contact, realizing that a moment like this was best left undisturbed.

"Stop hovering…" mumbled Shaw, somewhat bemused. "I can hear you smiling, you know…"

Root's face lit up and she shuffled across the bed, causing their bodies to finally make contact. "Morning, sweetie…" she whispered sweetly into Shaw's ear.

Shaw turned and met Root with a thoughtful gaze and a shy smile. "Morning, Root…"

Root perched herself on her elbow. Her index finger traced the outline of Shaw's jaw, studying every bump and curve with undivided attention as if painting the world's next masterpiece. Absentmindedly, Shaw mimicked Root by drawing delicate circles at the small of Root's back.

"Sooooo…" began Root in a slow, sensual whisper "Last night really happened, huh?"

Shaw's hand, which had been caressing Root's back, stopped moving.

"Yeah Root, last night really happened…"she replied flippantly.

Root ignored the flush of disappointment that was building within her gut and offered Shaw a reluctant smile. "You're just bursting with compliments this morning…"

However the comment fell flat with Shaw. Instead her brows creased into a deep frown and Root found herself staring into vacant eyes.

"Root, listen…." she said suddenly after what felt like a lifetime to Root. "I've been doing some thinking…"

Root's pulse quickened, because she dreaded hearing the words that she knew were bound to leave Shaw's mouth sooner or later. Root inhaled a nervous, preparatory breath.

"Oh…" she said as innocently as she could manage "What about?"

There was a long silence as Shaw chewed at her bottom lip. Root wondered about how much longer she could wait before her heart popped out of her chest.

But then, Shaw's fiery brown eyes suddenly met hers.

"A four alarm fire in an oil refinery…"

Root felt her heart skip a beat, or maybe twenty.

"Do you still…..want that?.." continued Shaw, her voice low and cracked, the most emotional, Root had ever heard it.

Root couldn't contain her joy; she cupped Shaw's face and kissed her possessively, hungrily. Moments later, Shaw's head swung back gasping for precious air, a huge smile plastered on her face. Root placed several soft kisses along Shaw's neck and paused just beside Shaw's ear.

"Yes…" she said huskily, her tone sweet yet serious. "I want the four alarm fire. I want you _and_ I want plenty more of last night…."

Shaw laughed excitedly. Root settled back on her elbow, watching, enjoying, reveling in yet another moment she didn't think would ever happen.

Then, Shaw's laughing eyes met Root, but the expression on her face was mixed with worry and reproach. "This doesn't mean that I forgot all about your rogue mission at The Pentagon…" she said sternly.

"I know…." replied Root with a puppy-dog stare and a rather exaggerated pout of the lips.

"If you do that again, I swear I will…-"

"I won't…" Root cut in sternly, this time fully sincere "I promise no more impromptu missions."

Mentally, Root had left the conversation, too distracted by the offerings of Shaw's naked flesh.

"I mean it, Root!"

"Uh-hum…." muttered Root dismissively.

The soft noise of Shaw's disciplinary speech melted into the background as Root began a slow, self-indulgent, exploration of Shaw's body, leaving a trail of hot kisses in every path along her journey. But upon reaching Shaw's abdomen, Root stopped, choosing instead to use her fingers to explore the prominent contours of the muscles around the scar that left Shaw fighting for her life. Shaw squirmed and groaned and Root laughed enjoying how Shaw's voice had been reduced to low and raspy mumble.

"Dammit Root, stop messing about!"

Root let out an evil laugh. She was only too happy to comply.

Later that day, Root awoke to find herself nestled in the crook of Shaw's neck. She grinned and tightened her grip around Shaw's waist.

"Root…" began Shaw softly

"Yes sweetie…"

"Don't you think we should, you know…." she paused and inhaled a preparatory breath as if actively forcing herself to finish the sentence "get up and see if the world has ended…"

"Maybe later…"

"Oh, ok…"

Root beamed; surprised and pleased by Shaw's response. The couple settled into a comfortable, happy silence. Root enjoyed listening to Shaw's steady breathing whilst Shaw felt herself drifting into another peaceful nap.

Then, a sudden slam of the door startled them both.

"Miss Shaw?!" shouted a familiar voice from afar. Shaw cursed silently. _Great timing Finch!_

"Just a second!" she hollered back and glared at Root sternly when Root refused to untangle her arms from around Shaw's waist. "Root, I need to get out…"

"Do you?" protested Root sweetly. "Can't you just get him to come in here?" she added and grinned instantly when she heard Shaw grunt with disapproval.

Shaw forced her way out of Root's grip. "Where the hell are my clothes?" she complained whilst searching the floor frantically.

Root giggled. Propped up by several pillows she watched Shaw's attempts to find her clothes, knowing all the while that her close scrutiny was making Shaw more uncomfortable than Finch's unexpected arrival. "Like I said….invite him in here…" she teased from her throne-like seat in bed.

Shaw, who was finally dressed, gave Root a reprimanding glare and left the room.

"Finch, hey…sorry…" she said casually whilst adjusting her clothes fretfully "I fell asleep…."

"I thought that would be the case when I called and you didn't answer. I am sorry to wake you but we have an urgent matter to discuss..." explained Finch as he hobbled towards Shaw.

Shaw sat onto her favorite seat on the couch and raised a questioning brow.

"And what urgent matter might that be Harry?" interrupted a cheery, bouncy voice from the doorway, instantly captivating the attention of both Finch and Shaw.

Root stood before them, wrapped in a crinkled bed-sheet with wildly tossed hair and a far-too-happy grin. Shaw felt her cheeks heat up and purposefully averted her gaze from Finch.

Meanwhile, Finch glanced from Root to Shaw, mouthed a silent "oh" and sat on the coffee table in front of Shaw as if nothing had happened.

"Miss Groves!" he exclaimed, realizing that Root was enjoying Shaw's embarrassment far too much to attempt to ease it. "I'm glad you're back with us safely…"

Root took a seat on the couch's arm-rest, beside Shaw. She reveled in Shaw's discomfort with a wicked smile.

"Root…" muttered Shaw through gritted teeth whilst glaring at Root disapprovingly. "Clothes…" she added in an angry whisper.

Root shrugged casually as her smile deepened. " _Sweetie_ , you told me to take them off…." she replied with an innocent pout of the lips.

Shaw exhaled an exasperated breath and rolled her eyes.

"So Miss Groves, did you find what you were looking for?…." began Finch but when Root glared at him in puzzlement he added "At the Pentagon? John tells me you stayed behind to complete a mission for The Machine?"

Root's smile vanished instantly and Shaw realized that they haven't actually discussed what happened on Root's lonesome mission at The Pentagon.

Shaw turned to Root reproachfully. "Yeah, Root. Did you find what you were looking for?"

Root inhaled a deep breath. "No…" she whispered quietly as her eyes glistened at Shaw apologetically.

"I'm sorry to hear that.." said Finch, breaking the somber silence.

"Me too…" muttered Root, her eyes never leaving Shaw's.

Shaw sighed heavily and glanced at Finch. "Anyway Finch…." she began, her voice shakier than normal. "What's this urgent thing that you came to talk to us about?"

"Oh yes, that…" he remembered, but his expression looked grim. "I think we may need to sacrifice The Machine…"


	26. Chapter 26: Sounds like fun

_Thanks to all who are still reading this._

 _Just a minor warning for the next chapter: I know nothing about computer coding, so I apologize if the next part is not very realistic, but I had to end the story somehow...I hope you enjoy it anyway._

 **CHAPTER TWENTY SIX: Sounds like fun….**

Root glared at Finch, unimpressed. "What _exactly_ do you mean by "sacrifice The Machine", Harry?"

"I'd rather discuss this when we're all here. Mr Reese and Detective Fusco are due to arrive at any moment…." replied Finch sternly.

Root nodded absentmindedly and made a rather reluctant return to the bedroom where she began to get dressed. She realized, rather ashamedly that, The Machine had not been at the forefront of her mind since Shaw's return from Samaritan; a realization that was both surprising and difficult to accept.

Root shook her head to shake the wayward thoughts away and got dressed quickly. She returned to the lounge in time for Fusco's and Reese's arrival.

"Welcome back…" said John with a quick nod of the head towards Root.

"Cocoa Puffs..." muttered Fusco, reluctantly. "Still cuckoo as ever, I hear…"

"Always a pleasure to see you too, Lionel…"

"Please everyone, take a seat. There is something we should discuss…" announced Finch as he walked into the safe-house's dining room and sat at the head of the table. Fusco maneuvered himself into a chair to Finch's left, whilst John rested his tall frame on the room's entryway.

Root took the seat opposite Fusco. Feeling a sudden cold breeze envelope her body, Root wrapped her arms around her shoulders. She stared at the large table before her, a mocking, disgusted smile on her face. She couldn't quite believe that this was how the future of her God would be decided. It just seemed so…. _ordinary_.

Root was awoken from her reverie when Shaw, who sat down beside her, placed a comforting hand on the small of Root's back. She found herself staring into Shaw's worried eyes but unable to answer any of Shaw's silent questions. Instead she offered Shaw a faltering smile and turned towards Finch.

"As you all know, I've spent quite some time studying all the recent information we acquired and I believe that I can code Control's anti-Samaritan software into The Machine. However…." he paused as an uncomfortable expression emerged on his face "since Mr Greer has at least a partial copy of Control's software, coding it into The Machine would make it visible…"

Fusco scoffed. "Why can't things just be simple for once?..."

A lopsided smile emerged on John's face. "We _are_ trying to save the world here, Lionel..."

"Anyway…" dismissed Shaw with a frantic wave of the hand "So you're saying that if we upload Control's software into The Machine, Samaritan will be able to find it? Find The Machine I mean…"

"Precisely…"

" _She_ isn't strong enough to fight Samaritan…" stated Root despondently to no-one in particular "If Samaritan finds _Her_ , it will destroy _Her_ …"

"Ok…so what's the alternative?" asked John with a questioning brow at Finch.

Finch sighed heavily. "I'm afraid the alternative is rather a radical one…"

"I believe that when I hear it…" said Shaw with a sneer.

Finch inhaled a steady breath and his gaze dropped to the table. "I would like to contaminate The Machine with a series of false codes and release it back into the electrical grid…"

"You what now?" questioned Shaw, her confusion reflecting that on the faces of Fusco and John.

As Finch searched for the correct words to begin his explanation, Root moved forward, bringing her elbows to rest on the table. She partly turned her head in Shaw's direction, but her gaze remained fixed on the table in front of her. "When you were with Samaritan, The Machine hid itself in boxes along the nation's power grids. Samaritan discovered this and began a series of power surges to destroy it. The current Machine is pretty much what's left since those events took place…" she finished coldly as her eyes rose to meet Finch.

"Okay, so why do we want to do that again?" replied Shaw

This time Finch was prepared to answer. "The false codes which I will insert into The Machine will make it harder for Samaritan to find The Machine within the electrical grid. Also they should buy us enough time to break into Samaritan HQ and upload Control's software onto Samaritan's hard drives, _manually_ …"

"Come again?" grunted Fusco

Finch sat back into his chair and took a brief, thoughtful pause, before speaking. "Samaritan will recognize The Machine as soon as it is released into the electrical grid, but the false codes in The Machine will act as road blocks. They are a series of random code that will require decoding. Should Samaritan stumble upon a false code, deciphering it will require all of Samaritan's power and resources, resulting in short, pockets of time that are for all intense and purposes Samaritan-free…"

Shaw's face lit up. "So we actually have a shot at breaking into Samaritan HQ!" she said as she grinned at John excitedly.

John smiled. "….that sounds like fun…."

Whilst John and Shaw rejoiced in the thought of some potential gun action, the tension between Root and Finch was thick and heavy, both watching each other and both absorbed in their conflicting thoughts.

"And what happens to _Her_ afterwards?" whispered Root finally, her eyes and voice tired and despondent. "If by some miracle you destroy Samaritan…what happens to _Her_ then, Harold?"

Finch shrugged rather too casually for Root's liking. "We download The Machine back into a secure physical location…."

"That's not what I meant…" replied Root impatiently. "What happens to _Her_ after _She_ has been violated by endless pieces of unnecessary code? What happens to her after _She_ has endured periods of prolonged torture by Samaritan. What happens to _Her_ _then_ Harry?"

Finch held Root's gaze as he swallowed an imaginary lump in his throat. "I'm afraid I don't know the answers to those questions, Miss Groves…" he replied rather ashamedly.

Root laughed, sadly, mockingly and sat back into her chair. "Inserting false code into The Machine is a gamble…." she explained factually, addressing all her colleagues as if giving a lecture. "The false code is fed into the Machine but there is no control over where in _Her_ core the code will incorporate. If it enters in the wrong place it can interrupt her functionality. This means that The Machine we get back at the end may not be the one we know today…"

"I'm afraid Miss Groves is right…." answered Finch, when everyone but Root turned to him with silent questions. "Also, whether or not Samaritan stumbles upon a false code when searching for The Machine is a random process. In order to increase our chances of making a successful trip to Samaritan HQ, I would need to insert many false codes into The Machine-"

"….and so increasing the chances of _Her_ corruption…" interrupted Root.

Shaw rested into the back of her chair with a long, thoughtful sigh. "Ok I gotta give it to you Finch, this is one badass plan…..I don't know if I should be impressed or disturbed…"

John dismissed the entire conversation with a casual wave of the hand. "I'm in with whatever you decide Finch…"

"Yeah, me too!" added Fusco

Then, almost reluctantly, Shaw's eyes turned to Root, who was staring into the distance thoughtfully. "Look Root…" she whispered gently, almost surprising herself at the tenderness in her voice. "I get it. Doing this is really bad for The Machine, but this is our only chance to get ahead of Samaritan. I'm sick of always playing catch-up…" she explained sounding almost apologetic.

Shaw bit her lip hard and found herself holding her breath as she waited for Root's reply, but none came. Root's eyes were focused on something far away and her face betrayed nothing.

Out of options, Shaw tried the last thing she thought might work. She leaned into Root and spoke into her ear, in a low and playful whisper. "Besides, breaking into Samaritan HQ is gonna be fun, right?"

Shaw's ploy gave instant results. The corner of Root's mouth curved into a smile. She turned and her eyes scanned Shaw's face tenderly before she smiled reassuringly, giving Shaw the approval she was seeking. "Right…" she answered gently.

"Miss Groves, you don't have to do this. You are free to leave.…" stated Finch, causing Root's eyes to meet his. "This will probably be the most dangerous mission we have ever attempted. It is difficult to fight for something one doesn't believe in…"

Root exhaled a tentative breath. "I don't disagree with your plan Harold. In fact I think it's a great plan. It's rather unlike you but it's a plan that fits your genius. I'm just sorry I haven't been around to help you help _Her_..." she paused and her eyes jumped to the floor, ashamedly. "I'm sorry it has come to this…"

"You have nothing to apologize for, Root…" stated Finch roughly, his confident and imposing gaze holding Root's. "I've often thought that you have been more of loyal servant to The Machine, than I…."

"I guess that settles it…" answered Root with a smile. "Gotta be loyal till the end, right Harry?"

Finch chuckled reservedly. "I think that is the exact definition of loyalty, Miss Groves…"

Root grinned and her eyes settled on Shaw. "Besides…" she said broodingly as her hand snaked its way around Shaw's arm until her fingers wrapped around Shaw's. "….I've got another reason to stay…"


	27. Chapter 27: Go

_Thanks for reading and thanks for your comments. They help me to keep going..._

 **CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN: Go…**

"Hey Harold, are you in here?" hollered Shaw as she made a cautious journey through a desolate, run-down building, with John at her heels. "I gotta say, you've downgraded since your last buy…."

A long and rusty creak of the door stopped Shaw and John in their tracks. It came from a dark, nearby corridor, east of their position.

"Yeah, just wait till you see the decor in here!" shouted Fusco in his usual tone of mild discomfort and disapproval.

Shaw relaxed with a soft sigh, secured her weapon and barged past Fusco to enter Finch's new mysterious hideout. John followed closely behind.

They entered what was essentially a large, shabby warehouse storage area that smelt of damp and was only lit by several strategically placed flashlights. Finch's crude desk, assembled from someone's leftover plastic crates took center stage and looked amusingly miniature in such a big open space, but at least it came with two relatively sturdy picnic chairs.

Across from Finch's workstation, in the right hand corner, sat a congregation of tall, black computer server units, stacked together in a series of rows and columns. A succession of digital dials, multi-colored blinking lights and numerous "high voltage" signs prevented Shaw from approaching the area until it was absolutely necessary, but John advanced towards the eerie corner and studied each dial in a pensive, brooding silence.

"Nice digs, Harold…" said Shaw as she arrived to stand just behind Finch and peered over his shoulder at the gibberish on his laptop screen.

"Hi Sweetie!" chirped Root's usual cheery tone from somewhere up- above them, taking Shaw by surprise.

Shaw stretched her neck to scan the ceiling and found Root in a dark corner, hanging off a crusty old ladder about fifty feet of the ground. Her legs were wrapped tightly around the ladder, while both her hands fumbled about with a series of thick cables. Shaw swallowed nervously.

" _Root_ …." she growled, her displeasure clearly audible. "Root, get the hell down from there!…" she shouted but her protests were largely ignored. Unimpressed she turned to Finch. "How could you let her get up there without any safety rope?" she scolded him through gritted teeth.

Instantly, Finch's gaze jumped to Root and he examined her precarious position on the building wall with wide eyes and a grave expression. "We've stumbled across a little set back with The Machine's launch into the grid. That was the only solution we could think of, given the circumstances….. " he explained hurriedly and apologetically.

Shaw rolled her eyes and walked towards Root's position. She examined the ladder with a deep and angry scowl. "Dammit Root! At least put your hands on the ladder! …"

"Almost done…" sung Root but the words did nothing to comfort Shaw; whose eyes followed Root's every micro-movement.

A few minutes later, Root secured the cable she'd been working with in its designated place and began her descend. Root could feel Shaw's eyes watching her every step and as soon as she was a few feet from the ground, Shaw's palm was at her waist and her reassuring grip guided Root the rest of the way to the ground.

Root adjusted her clothes and glanced at Shaw with a beaming smile that was meant only for her, but Shaw glared back with a deep scowl and an unimpressed pout of the lips.

"Don't ever do that again…" she mumbled in warning, but this only elicited a beaming smile from Root.

Suddenly Fusco burst into the room and hurriedly approached Finch's desk. "Finch…..9 minutes and 22 seconds remaining…" he said whilst looking at his watch.

Although Finch heard the warning, he remained silent. However Fusco's alert prompted Root to jump to the chair beside Finch and begin a session of hasty typing.

"What happens in 9 minutes and 22 seconds?" asked John, still assessing the intimidating computer corner.

This time, Finch responded, meeting John's gaze from above the computer screen. "Mr Turner patrols this electric substation every day from 23 hundred hours. Since The Machine is being primed for its fight with another super AI, I couldn't use it to get rid of Mr Turner. Naturally I was hoping to leave this location before his arrival, but I'm afraid the recent set back we suffered has put an end to those plans…"

John nodded in understanding. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Yes…" sighed Finch heavily, a tired expression on his face "See if you can stall Mr Turner's arrival… with as little violence as possible, please…"

"Sure….." replied John and headed for the door.

Meanwhile, Root's face lit up and she placed a soft hand on Finch's arm. "Harold, I think the power cables are good to go. I think _She's_ ready…." she explained, her face animated and her eyes wide.

Upon receiving no reply, Root turned her attention to Finch and watched with a somber expression as Finch's sad, thoughtful gaze made a slow and brooding journey across the desk.

"I'm sorry Harold…."said Root in a cracked whisper after a prolonged silence, where she also reflected on her own feelings towards The Machine.

Finch gave Root a brief nod of thanks, inhaled a preparatory breath and turned to Fusco. "Detective Fusco, in the far, right hand corner of the room you will find a series of computer servers. In the first row, attached to the first computer server you will find a lever, a couple of centimeters in length…." he paused, giving Fusco a moment to locate the lever.

"Okay, now what?..."

"Pull the lever out into an open, extended position…" instructed Finch as both he and Root dropped their undivided attention to their computer screens.

Fusco obeyed his instructions and within seconds the building vibrated with a low humming sound. Several light sparks emerged from the cables and exposed wires that were scattered around the building. Shaw watched both Root and Finch during the tense and eerie atmosphere that followed and she was sure that she hadn't seen Root exhale a breath in minutes.

"Please remain in your current position Detective…" urged Finch when he heard the shuffle of Fusco's footsteps. "We may need you to pull the lever back, up…"

Fusco mumbled something ineligible, but remained standing by the lever.

Despite her role as a casual observer, Shaw also felt like grunting with displeasure. The background noise was giving her a headache and she felt a strange heaviness in her body. She rotated her shoulders and twisted her neck from side to side but this did nothing to ease her discomfort.

She rubbed her eyes. "So…" she asked with impatient irritation "is it working?"

Root chewed her lip whilst gazing at the screen reflectively. "Yes but there may be a problem…"

Shaw perked up suddenly. "What kind of problem?..." she asked excitedly, leaning her body onto the desk beside Root, silently urging her to provide a further explanation.

"The electric current flowing through the circuit is too high. Long term, these conditions will kill _Her_ …." explained Root with one eye on the screen. "The lever only switches the power on or off, there is no way to control its intensity…" she added flatly.

Shaw grabbed the large torch from Root's desk and approached the intimidating computer corner. She ignored the raspy sounds in her chest and made a slow passage through each row, examining each dial and each connecting cable methodically.

By the time she reached Fusco's position, she was sweating, her breathing was labored and there was a persistent heaviness in her chest. She was forced to lean on the wall behind Fusco, to support her body weight. Then, she slid down the wall, until she was seated on the ground. She closed her eyes momentarily, enjoying the feel of the cool brick against her neck.

"Hey, you okay?…" asked Fusco with the most confused expression Shaw had ever seen.

"I'm fine Lionel. Just too damn hot in here…."

As if to prove her point, Shaw reclaimed possession of her torch and used it to examine the large collection of cables beside her, most of which were connected to Fusco's computer and its magical lever.

"Lionel…." spoke Shaw, this time in a more hurried and serious tone. "Do me a favor and find me some tape…electrical tape would be best, but given our situation any tape will do….."

Fusco observed Shaw with a puzzled, somewhat doubtful expression before he decided that it was easier to obey than to question, so he left in pursuit of the tape. Meanwhile Shaw pulled out a knife from the inside of her boots and removed her jacket, folding it around the knife as tight as possible.

"Sameen…." came Root's sweet but tense voice "What are you doing here?" she added when she emerged in front of Shaw and observed the knife in Shaw's hand with a dubious raise of the brow.

"All the cables from your Machine pass through this pile and into that power unit…" explained Shaw, indicating the mass of cables beside her and Fusco's power box with her empty hand. "I'm no expert but _do you really need that many cables?_ …"

Root's eyes bounced around their surroundings as her mind worked a million miles an hour, constantly thinking, assessing and analyzing. Within moments a beaming smile emerged on her face and she spun on her heels and sprinted towards Finch.

Shaw stared at the space vacated by Root, a short smile of admiration plastered on her face. _I swear I've never seen anyone get a stupid goofy smile like that over a bunch of electrical cables…_

"You're in luck…" said Fusco, waking Shaw from her reverie. "Plenty of electrical tape…." he added and threw a roll at Shaw.

Shaw caught the tape but before she could remember what she planned to do with it, Root appeared beside Fusco. She dropped to her knees beside Shaw and wrapped a piece of white tape around a group of cables. "From what I can tell, these are essential cables, the rest are fair game…." she explained, pointing to the cables she isolated as the essential bunch. "Cut slowly, one by one, until I tell you to stop…"

Shaw positioned her knife against the first non-essential cable and smiled at Root. "Ready, when you are…"

Root gave Shaw a parting wink and returned to the workstation. As soon as Shaw heard the rattle of what she assumed was Root's chair, she cut the first cable and waited briefly for a potential protest from Root. She noted that the pressure in her chest was still present and she made a mental note to investigate this further once they got back to the subway.

Shaw cut two more wires, before Root yelled for her to stop. Then, Fusco helped Shaw to her feet and they both eagerly approached Finch's workstation.

"So, are you gonna keep us in suspense all night?" mumbled Fusco.

"It's working…" replied Root with a big grin.

"I stand corrected Miss Groves..." said Finch in disbelief. "It appears your gamble payed off…"

"Not my play, Harry!" answered Root cheerily as she jumped off her chair and planted a quick kiss on Shaw's lips.

The main door suddenly flew open and John marched through, carrying a man's body across his shoulders. He laid the body on the floor in a nearby empty corner, but when he rose to his feet he was greeted by Finch's disapproving glare.

"He wasn't buying my cover story…"explained John with an innocent shrug. "Besides, he won't be out for long…"

"Miss Shaw…" said Finch with sudden urgency. "I think you should make arrangements for the next phase of our plan. I would like you to take me to the location of Samaritan's servers. I trust you know where that is, given that you have been there before…"

Normally Shaw would have jumped at the chance to finally get some action, but instead somehow she found herself staring into Fusco's reprimanding glare in contemplative silence.

"Wait, what? Just the two of you?" asked John with surprise.

Root was just as confused as John. "Harold you can't leave. _She_ may need you here…"

"Root's right, Finch. It's too dangerous for you to be out there. Fusco and I will go with Shaw. You and Root babysit The Machine…" instructed John in a no nonsense manner.

"I require Detective Fusco's assistance for another matter…" replied Finch in a somber tone. "Plus neither you nor Miss Shaw are capable of uploading the software…"

"No, but I am…" chirped Root with an excited smile.

"Precisely…." replied Finch rather impatiently. "…..which is why I want you to stay here and provide back up in case things should go south…."

"Harold, you're place is here, with _Her_.…" said Root, placing a soft and reassuring hand on Finch's shoulder. "So, Shaw and I will go and you and John can be the back-up…" she added in a voice that suggested the subject wasn't up for negotiation any longer.

"Actually, I think you and John should go…" stated Shaw, causing everyone to stare at her in mild disbelief and confusion. Shaw cursed silently, wishing she came up with a decent excuse before she spoke. "I've got history with Greer and many of the Samaritan operatives. It might be best to send someone more neutral and less recognizable…." she mumbled nervously, uncertain about the validity of her excuse.

As Shaw expected, her last minute excuse was bought by everyone but Root. Shaw ignored Root's concerned and questioning gaze and was glad when John broke the awkward silence.

"How soon can we leave?" he asked.

"I suspect you have about 48 hours before Samaritan finds The Machine…."

John nodded briskly and gently nudged Root's elbow. "Root, let's go…. we need to start packing…"

Root ignored John's request, her eyes firmly locked onto Shaw's neutral expression, silently begging for an explanation. But there was no way in hell Shaw was going to discuss her new found health issues with Root before sending her on a mission to save the world.

"Go…." she said softly with a reassuring smile. "I'll help Finch and be right behind you…" she added with a tired wink.

Nudged by John once again, Root gave Shaw's arm a quick, tender squeeze and ran towards the door.

Staring after her, Shaw finally exhaled a tired and painful breath.


	28. Chapter 28: I know just the thing

_Really appreciate your wonderful comments! Thanks for reading!_

 **CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT: I know just the thing….**

Fusco sat in the passenger side of Shaw's rental SUV and silently prayed for his life as Shaw negotiated a series of high speed turns to overtake what she termed as "annoyingly slow drivers." He cursed silently as he wondered why he thought getting a free ride with Shaw was a good idea. He made a mental note to use all other modes of transportation next time his car was at the repair shop.

"Did anyone actually teach you to drive?" he mumbled impatiently, wishing the journey to end as soon as possible.

Shaw ignored the insult and continued her erratic driving until they reached a traffic free road. Then she turned to Fusco with a calming smile. ""So is this what you're doing from now on, babysitting The Machine in that rusty old shack?"

"Yeah, Finch told me to watch the place until he and Cocoa Puffs are done studying." he explained and paused abruptly, taking a minute to examine Shaw's expression. "I heard they're leaving tonight…" he added in an uncharacteristically sympathetic tone.

"Yeah, they are…" mumbled Shaw as her hands tightened around the steering wheel.

"You okay?..." he asked with a grimace, unsure if he was going to get punched for starting this line of questioning.

Shaw rolled her eyes in frustration. "I swear if you ask me that one more time, I _will_ strangle you…." she snapped. However when her gaze met Fusco's smug grin signifying the irony of the situation, she groaned and turned her attention back to the road, giving herself a moment to calm down.

"I'm fine okay. Since that episode 2 days ago, I've been monitoring my vitals and everything checks out great. I even ran a blood test. Everything is fine, so just drop it…" she finished sternly.

Fusco waved off Shaw's explanation. "I still think you should have seen a proper doctor about that but that's not what I was getting at."

Fusco let the implied subject hang in the air because despite Shaw's efforts to appear unaffected, she was actually more angry and uncomfortable than usual. They drove in silence for several minutes with Shaw starring at the road ahead with a set jaw and a determined pout of the lips.

Suddenly she exhaled a long, tense breath. "I'm worried about Root…" she finally said anxiously.

"Sure you are. You care about her. It's normal to worry about the people you care about Shaw…" explained Fusco confidently, surprised with his newly-discovered ability to converse with women. "But she's not going out there alone. Don't you trust John to look after your girlfriend?"

"Of course I trust John!" replied Shaw with an are-you-crazy glare at Fusco "…but this is a big fight, the chances that all of us make it out alive are slim…" she added in a sombre tone.

Fusco's gaze narrowed on Shaw's face. "You're scared…." he whispered in awe.

Initially Shaw didn't respond and Fusco watched those bulging blood vessels at the base of her neck with a nervous breath; he wondered if she was going to pull over first before she strangled him or just do it one handed.

"Yeah Lionel, I guess I am…" she replied with a resigned sigh, much to Fusco's astonishment. "It's just the thought of losing her, paralyses every part of me…." she added in a broken voice that Fusco found hard to associate with her.

Fusco smiled. "Listen, Cocoa Puffs can raise the dead from their grave. She ain't even gonna break a sweat over a couple of Samaritan dead beats…" he explained confidently. "In the meantime, find something to do that could help her, it'll keep your mind occupied…."

A comfortable, thoughtful silence filled the car. Fusco watched the gradual escape of the tension in Shaw's body the further they drove on and found himself releasing a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. Then, Shaw's animated eyes turned to him and she smiled.

"I know just the thing.…"

Several hours later Shaw returned to the subway, agitated and out of breath. Bear barked excitedly and despite his attempts to catch Shaw's attention, Shaw ran straight past him and purposefully approached Finch's desk.

"I think we've got a problem…." she announced.

John, who had been enjoying a short nap on the bench nearby, sat up and rubbed his eyes, while both Finch and Root glared at Shaw with puzzled expressions. Bear sat beside Shaw's feet, his eager eyes looking up at Shaw in the hope of potential attention.

"I thought it might be handy for us to have insider information on what Greer's goons are up to, since The Machine is out of action, so I stole some radios from some Samaritan operatives I found and I've been intercepting their radio signals for the past hour…." explained Shaw hurriedly and paused to remove the radios in question from her jacket pocket. She held them out for everyone to see and continued. "….The term "The Switch" has been mentioned at least several times in the time I've been listening. All Samaritan operatives have been given orders to return to base in time for The Switch which is scheduled for 24 hundred hours tonight…"

Root's brows furrowed as she turned to Finch. "Greer can't rest easy until he is sure that Samaritan is protected from the only thing that has so far managed to cripple it…" she mumbled thoughtfully, slightly in awe of the prospect. "Greer must have coded something into Samaritan to protect it from Control's software…"

Shaw scowled "But how, I thought he only had a partial copy of the software…"

"Miss Shaw, if we managed to obtain a full copy of the code, what's to stop Mr Greer from doing the same?"

"So let me get this straight…" said John as he stood up and stretched his legs. "If The Switch is what we think it is and if it goes ahead tonight, then Control's software won't work on Samaritan…"

Finch's face was grim. "That's correct, Mr Reese…"

"Which means you should leave now…" stated Shaw anxiously as she checked her watch. "There is still time to complete the mission before The Switch…"

"I'm not so sure Miss Shaw…." replied Finch and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Given this new information, perhaps we should reconsider our plan. Samaritan HQ will be packed with operatives; this mission has become much more dangerous than it was before…" he pleaded with uncertainty.

Root waved off Finch's explanation frantically. "Harry, there is no other time for second guessing…" she said forcefully, her tone non-negotiable. "We need to do this now, because if we don't Samaritan will be bigger and better and The Machine will be in pieces…."

"I'm with Root on this…" stated John confidently when Finch's inquiring gaze settled on him.

"Fine..." said Finch with a look of resignation.

"Good…..cos I bought some accessories to help you blend in…" said Shaw and emptied her pockets onto Finch's desk. There was a second radio set, complete with an ear-piece and two ID cards.

John inspected the mission accessories laid out on Finch's desk and turned to Root. "Are you ready to go?"

"No…" cut in Shaw, causing Root to glare at her with surprise. "We'll need a few minutes…" she added her stern gaze meeting John's.

John nodded at Shaw with a short smile. "I'll wait in the car."

He collected the radios and ID cards into his pockets, picked up a black duffel bag and his suit jacket and approached the exit, where all of a sudden he stopped. He turned back slowly and his eyes scanned across all of his colleagues.

"I'll see you on the other side…" he mumbled roughly, referring to no-one in particular.

"Good luck Mr Reese…" was Finch's confident, but sombre reply. Shaw simply nodded and John left the room briskly.

Finch stared at the exit long after John's departure wearing a thoughtful, far-away expression. Root eyed him with concern but found herself unable to offer any words of comfort. Instead she placed a soft hand on his shoulder and glared at Bear sternly, urging him to help her. When Bear finally arrived and gazed up at Finch with his droopy eyes, Root turned to Shaw.

Shaw sat on her knees amongst Root's bags and examined every single of Root's guns methodically, packing some and replacing others. Root inhaled a nervous breath and approached Shaw. There were so many things she wanted to say but she couldn't work out where to start, so she simply stared.

"Take off your clothes…" said Shaw sternly without actually looking at Root.

Root blinked several times, unsure if she could trust what she had just heard. She grinned from ear to ear.

She swung her head back casually in Finch's direction. "Harry, you might wanna close your eyes…" she shouted playfully, startling the older man awake from his thoughts. Almost instantly, she heard the shuffle of human and animal footsteps.

Shaw rolled her eyes and sighed impatiently. "Root, stop messing about and put that on…" she said sternly and threw a Kevlar vest in Root's direction. It landed on the floor just beside Root's feet.

Root pouted her lips and gave Shaw a rather exaggerated look of disappointment, but Shaw's stern glare remained firmly fixed on her face. Root sighed with mild annoyance and crouched down to collect the Kevlar vest from the floor.

As Root fiddled with the adjustments on the Kevlar vest, the dangers of the mission they were about to undertake suddenly arrived to the forefront of her mind. She stared at Shaw tenderly and the longer she stared, the harder it became to hold onto the thoughts that she so desperately wanted to reveal.

"You know, after this is over…." she said, trying hard to keep her tone casual and playful. "I'm going to move into your apartment with you…"

Shaw stopped moving and her piercing glare jumped to Root. Despite her efforts, Shaw couldn't hide the smirk at the corner of her mouth. "Is that right?"

Shaw rose to her feet and approached Root with a predatory glare and a wicked smirk. Watching Shaw, Root thought her heart would pounce out of her chest, but her voice betrayed nothing of this. "That's right…" confirmed Root with a grin.

Coming to a stop a few inches away from Root, Shaw smiled as her eyes danced about Root's animated face. "You don't even like my apartment…"

Root grinned. "Well, maybe if I stayed in it for a little longer than 5 minutes, I might learn to like it…" she replied with her best look of innocence.

Shaw bit back a grin and her eyes settled on Root's mouth. "Is that your not- so- subtle way of inviting yourself over?"

"Guilty as charged…" replied Root with a confident smile. She leaned into Shaw and rested her forehead against Shaw's as her expression suddenly became sombre and serious. "Only this time, I never wanna leave…"she whispered longingly.

Shaw did not reply. She cupped the side of Root's cheek and pulled her into a long and deeply passionate kiss.

"Okay…" said Shaw in a heated whisper when they broke from the kiss, both gasping breathlessly.

"Really?" asked Root with a broken squeal of excitement.

"Sure, Root…" replied Shaw casually. "You can move into my apartment…"


	29. Chapter 29: I'm going in!

_As always, thanks for reading and commenting! I hope you're still enjoying this._

 **CHAPTER TWENTY NINE: I'm going in…**

At the subway, Finch sat hunched over a laptop, the only piece of equipment not sacrificed for The Machine's launch into the electrical grid.

"Harry…." came Root's devious, playful tone through Finch's ear-piece. "It's happening…the download of Control's software has been initiated…" she added with a wicked grin that could be heard in her voice.

Finch straightened his posture and stared into the abyss with a short, reluctant smile, almost unwilling to believe the information he just heard.

Having heard Root's message through her own ear-piece, Shaw arrived beside Finch and nudged his shoulder gently. "How long will she need to babysit those computers for?" she asked anxiously.

Finch shrugged. "I'm afraid I cannot answer that. A couple of hours at least…"

Shaw replied with a low grunt of disapproval, crossed her arms at her chest and began pacing the floor behind Finch. "Where the hell is John? How could he just leave her alone in there like that?" she complained to no-one in particular.

Finch paused his typing thoughtfully. "Miss Groves, have you spoken to John lately? We're having a little trouble getting in touch with him…."

"Not since we parted company at the corridor. Give it sometime Harry, there is plenty out there to keep him busy…" replied a slightly pre-occupied Root.

"Something's happened to John!" concluded Shaw angrily. "I'm going in…" she added as she ran towards her locker.

"Miss Shaw, I realise that this isn't easy for you…" said Finch breathlessly as he struggled to keep up with her. "But you of all people must understand that a few hours of no communication is an ordinary occurrence out in the field…"

Quickly but carefully, Shaw placed several guns into a black duffel bag. "Maybe so, but it wouldn't hurt to have another pair of hands in there. Either one of them could use the help…." she zipped up the bag, stuffed one handgun into the back of her waist and offered the other to Finch.

Finch eyed the gun with disgust.

"I'll call Fusco to come over and stay here with you. In the meantime take this and don't leave this place…" said Shaw as she pushed the gun further towards Finch.

Reluctantly, almost in slow motion, Finch's hand rose to collect the gun. Afterwards, he sighed heavily. "Sameen, please be careful.…."

"I will…." replied Shaw with a soft, reassuring smile. "Take care Finch….oh and don't tell Root about this…."

She draped the duffel bag over her shoulder, gave Bear a parting pat on the head and ran out the building.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Samaritan HQ, John awoke to a sore head and a pungent taste of blood in his mouth. His arms and legs were duct-taped to a chair and two bulky Samaritan operatives towered over him. The room was dark, and his vision was blurred but John thought he saw only one guy holding a gun – for now.

"You've got 5 seconds to tell me who you are and who your work for, cos that sure as hell aint you…" said the guy without the gun as he shoved a familiar looking ID card into John's face. John's photograph had been peeled back, revealing the identity of the cards original owner. _Ok, could have done a better job on that one, but we were on a clock…._

"Fellas….." replied John with a slow, can't-be-bothered smile as his eyes lazily shifted from one operative to the other. "I'm a changed man…"

A heavy punch landed in John's face. He closed his eyes with a grimace, fighting hard to steady his spinning head.

"Say goodbye asshole..!" exclaimed the operative with the gun as he aimed it directly at John's head.

Wanting to look his killer in the eye, John raised his gaze slowly and as he did so, something at the back of the room caught his attention. Unbeknown to the two operatives, the door handle behind them had turned and the door was pushed slightly ajar.

Betraying none of his observations, John's gaze narrowed in on his opponent but at the corner of his eye he saw the arrival of a thin, silky smooth black cylinder through the gap in the door.

"Goodbye asshole!…" said John with a satisfied smirk.

As soon as the words left John's mouth, the ID-guy dropped to the floor. The gun-guy turned to shoot at the door, but the uninvited stranger was quicker and fired two bullets into the guy's chest before he had a chance to aim his weapon.

"Nice entrance…" groaned John with a lopsided smile as he stared at Shaw's small frame with one open eye.

Shaw grinned and cut the restraints on John's arms and legs. Then, she gave John's face a quick medical examination. "Are you hurt anywhere else? Can you walk?" she asked with concern.

"I'm fine…." he replied with a casual wave of the hand. He rose slowly from the chair and took a moment to steady his spinning head, whilst Shaw collected the guns from the two dead operatives. "How did you find me?" asked John as he massaged the back of his head.

"Heard some chatter on the operative's radios that I stole earlier…" replied Shaw with a proud smile and handed the guns she just acquired to John. "Do you remember how to get to the server room? Root's been in there alone for a while now…"

John gave an affirmative nod of the head. "Let's go…."


	30. Chapter 30: Shaw?

_Thanks for reading everyone!_

 **CHAPTER THIRTY: Shaw?...**

Several minutes later, John and Shaw made a stealthy arrival into the server room, managing to escape the guarded corridors without being seen. John closed the heavy duty door and pressed an ear to its cold centre.

"Doesn't sound like anybody's onto us…. at least for now…"he said and turned to examine the offensively hot and noisy room behind him.

John frowned in disgust; several vertical rows of neatly stacked computer server units filled an area of a jumbo jet hangar. He cursed under his breath and turned to Shaw. "I'll start here. You take the north end and we work our way towards the middle. Assuming Root's still in here, one of us should find her…" he explained hurriedly, feeling a strange urge to leave this room sooner rather than later.

Shaw answered with a sharp nod. She dumped her weapon-filled duffel bag beside John's feet. They quickly stocked up with their preferred choice of weapons and ammunition and proceeded towards the server units.

As soon as Shaw began her walk through the first set of server units, she realized that she had grossly underestimated the length of these lanes. She figured that at her current rate, it would take her a while to clear the entire set, so she picked up her speed and examined the first lane of servers at a steady jogging pace, with a gun in her hand.

Three lanes later, Shaw's pace slowed drastically.

Sweat dripped down her entire body, pooling at the base of her hands, which challenged the grip on her gun. The humming noise from the multitude of surrounding computer boxes overwhelmed her brain and made it difficult to concentrate. Her legs felt heavy and became less stable the further she walked. Breathing became a conscious effort.

 _It's so damn hot in here…_

… _and those god-damn blinking lights…._

… _.I could shoot them all…_

Just as Shaw contemplated taking a short break the sound of gunfire broke out in the background. In that moment her training as a soldier took over and she listened intently. Judging by the distance she had covered during her walk through the first three lanes, Shaw concluded that the gunshots were too loud to come from John's position. This meant only one thing!...

 _Root!_

A surge of adrenaline flushed through Shaw's body, giving her the energy she needed to proceed. Although every gulp of oxygen felt like a piercing needle through her chest, she began a desperate and messy jog towards the gunfire, using the servers for support.

Shaw found Root in the middle of the fifth row of servers. A series of laptops decorated the floor and Root lay on her front amongst them, taking the only pathetic cover she could get from the oncoming bullets.

Shaw pushed the pain from all her physical impediments to the back of her mind and made a slow approach through the server lane parallel to Root's position. The sound of the servers and the gunfire, masked Shaw's clumsy approach and she emerged behind Root's attackers with an element of surprise.

Shaw eliminated all five agents shooting at Root with several rapid shots.

A strange silence filled the air; even all the computer noise didn't seem so loud anymore.

Root's head shot up from the floor. "Thanks sweetie…" she drawled in that happy playful tone of hers as a wide grin emerged on her face. "I knew you wouldn't stay away for long…"

Shaw managed a half-hearted smile as relief flushed through her body.

But a second later, a sudden, familiar heaviness descended upon her lungs, hitting her chest with a prominent thump. The gun slid out of Shaw's palm and hit the ground with a deafening thud.

" _Shaw?"_ questioned Root in a frightened tone, her mind not registering the sight before her eyes.

Shaw clasped her hands around her throat and fell into the server units. She began a desperate fight for air; gasping, panting, gulping.

Root grabbed Shaw's body as soon as she arrived at Shaw's position, but it felt limp and stagnant.

"Sameen, what's wrong?..." begged Root through her tears, like an upset child pestering its mother. "Shaw….please wake up…." she cried as she began to shake Shaw's small frame in an attempt to wake her back to life.

Root's eyes jumped about Shaw's body in a desperate search for answers, but there were none.

Shaw lay completely still, her eyes closed, her body unresponsive.

Root raised a trembling hand and pressed it gently against the side of Shaw's neck. She scrunched her eyes and shook her head in protest.

Then, she wrapped her arms tighter around Shaw's torso, rested her head against Shaw's and broke into heart-wrenching cries.

John arrived into server lane 5, disheveled and out of breath. He had emptied his magazine only moments earlier into a swarm of Samaritan agents, so when he saw Root at the end of lane 5, he almost jumped for joy at the thought that they might get out of here before the start of another gunfight.

But when John crouched beside Root, even his years of life experience couldn't have prepared him for the sight that greeted him.

Root cradled Shaw in her arms. Her eyes were closed. Her breathing was soft. She was sleeping and yet tears streamed down her face like a never-ending waterfall.

John glanced at the little he could see of Shaw's face and his own eyes filled with tears. But as he stared and as the memories of their time together flew past his thoughts, he suddenly knew what he had to do.

John placed both hands on either side of Root's shoulders and shook her gently but urgently. "Root?...Root, wake up!" he called loudly.

Root opened her eyes and stared at John in awe as if he was an apparition from another world. "Root, Samaritan operatives are onto us…." said John hurriedly as he reloaded his weapon. "We need to move now…"

Root blinked several times, giving John an empty, rather confused look, before her gaze dropped to Shaw, whom she continued to cradle in her arms. "I'm staying with Shaw…" she answered in a non-negotiable tone which dared him to challenge her.

John jerked Root's arm abruptly, causing her to look him in the eye. "Shaw's dead!" he exclaimed, his face inches away from hers…."And soon you will be too, if you don't get a grip…"

Root wasn't emotionally prepared for John's tough love, so she pulled out a gun from the back of her jeans and aimed it at the center of his forehead. She raised her chin defiantly and their eyes met as the cold barrel made contact with John's skin.

"I should shoot you for being such a heartless asshole!" she said venomously.

"The one thing Shaw would have wanted from me is to keep you alive…" he explained, his gaze never leaving Root's. "I'm just trying to honour a friend. _What are you doing, Root?_ "

The gun in Root's hand swayed just a little as doubt reflected in her puffy eyes. John's words forced her to think about Shaw's wishes, but she didn't get very far, because an armed figure in a black suit was aiming a gun at John's back.

Root fired two shots, both bullets nearly grazing John's left ear. The Samaritan operative in question dropped to the ground but as John turned behind him to inspect the scene, several more agents emerged into lane 5.

Both John and Root fired a multitude of bullets at the oncoming agents, but John knew that a gun battle was a sure way to die. So as soon as the opportunity presented itself, John grabbed hold of Root's arm, forcefully pulled her to her feet and dragged her uncompliant body towards the exit.


	31. Chapter 31: This is for Shaw

_I'm sorry for the long delay in posting this...Thanks for your comments and for reading!_

 **CHAPTER THIRTY ONE: This is for Shaw**

Several hours later, John and Root arrived in Chinatown, New York, where John parked their stolen SUV a few blocks away from the subway entrance. John switched off the car engine and lent back into his seat with a heavy sigh. His body ached all over and his face could use a decent plastic surgeon but given the casualties this mission had already taken, he was lucky to be alive. His mind drifted back to the events at Samaritan HQ and he turned his head to look at Root, who sat in the passenger seat beside him.

Root sat with her knees pressed against her chest. Her right hand held the gun she used at the server room and the feeble grip of her thin white fingers around the weapon reflected the rest of Root's demeanour. Her head partially rested on the passenger door as her unfaltering gaze continued to pierce holes through the glass window. Despite the dim light of the early evening, John noticed the remnants of dried tears on her pasty cheeks and it dawned on him that he had never before seen Root so…..defeated.

"I'm sorry…" said John in a voice so uncharacteristically emotional that it made Root flinch upon hearing it.

Root closed her eyes, slowly, painfully. Her face expressed no obvious emotion, apart from the fresh stream of tears that began to flow across her cheeks.

John cleared his throat with a short cough.

"I've not heard from Finch or Fusco in a while, despite several attempts to contact them…" explained John sadly as he proceeded to search through the glove compartment. Having found a new hand gun, he secured it into the back of his pants and turned to Root. "I'm going to check out the subway. Stay here. I'll be back for you once it's safe…."

Root remained still and silent. John took that as a sign of her agreement and left the car in pursuit of the next mission.

Halfway into his descent into the subway, John heard the subdued sound of Finch's typing and a couple of low-level grunts from Bear. Feeling encouraged, John emerged into the subway rather hurriedly, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Finch, sitting at his desk, typing, whilst Greer held a gun to the side of his head.

"Mr Reese!" greeted Greer with false surprise. "I didn't think you would be joining us, but please do come in…."

John was too tired for polite chit-chat; without a second's thought he pointed his weapon directly at Greer's head. Just as John flicked off the safety switch, two sets of heavy footsteps emerged from the shadows behind him. John realised that his premature arrival into the subway was an epic oversight, but before he had a chance to do much about it, one of the strangers hit John across the back of the head.

John felt a sharp cold slap when his face landed on the subway concrete. His head throbbed, he felt dazed and his vision was blurred, but he was conscious enough to realise that he was being dragged.

The two Samaritan lackeys dropped John's body besides Greer's polished leather shoes. John groaned and coughed as he made several attempts at getting up, but the pain in his body always overwhelmed him, causing him to fall back to the ground.

John heard Greer's mocking laughter, but he also heard Bear's enthusiastic, high-pitched yelps. John turned his head to find Bear's hopeful brown eyes staring back at him, only a few feet away. John also noticed Fusco sitting beside Bear. He lifted his head from the floor as a mixture of surprise and relief escaped him through a long sigh.

"Welcome to the party…." said a grim-faced Fusco as he met John's gaze.

Fusco's face was strained and sweaty. He sat on the floor with his back leaning on the wooden bench. A black leather belt squashed the top of his right thigh as a bloodbath pooled beneath it. He held Bear on a short leash because in front of them stood Samaritan lackey number 3; tall, bald and armed.

John finally rose to his knees and gazed up at Greer with a determined stare.

"Give it up Greer, it's over…." mumbled John through the blood in his mouth.

Greer smirked. "Oh I'm afraid you're wrong about that Mr Reese…"

Greer nudged the side of Finch's head with the gun. Finch paused typing and his head made a short, tentative turn in John's direction.

"Mr Greer wants to destroy The Machine…." said Finch flatly, his voice betraying no emotion.

"You see Mr Reese, you and your friends took from me my entire life's work, so I came to return the favour…" explained Greer.

John scoffed. "I should have known you'd be a sore loser…"

John received a kick in the back which knocked him back to the ground. "Is The Machine even alive?" he asked from the floor, whilst struggling to breathe normally.

"Yes it is…." snapped Greer angrily. "I have been to the power station; I know it survived its virtual war with Samaritan…"

"That….." muttered Finch through gritted teeth "….is not proof of life…"

Greer's irritation got the better of him and he lashed out, smacking Finch across the face with the butt of his handgun. Afterwards, he rammed his body weight into Finch and whispered in his ear. " _You_ turned this war into an unfair fight! If you hadn't destroyed Samaritan, it would have crippled your Machine to pieces and you know it. I am only correcting the wrongs, Harold …"

"Harold….." warned John as he steadied himself on his knees once again "….as soon as you give him what he wants, he will kill us all…"

Greer grinned proudly. "Perhaps Harold…" he said as walked a few steps towards John "…you just need a little motivation…."

Then, Greer swung his weapon towards John and pulled the trigger.

John fell to the floor clutching his right shoulder. Bear barked wildly, jumped and tugged at his leash.

"I am working on a protocol to help us diagnose the health status of The Machine!…" shouted Finch above the sound of Bear's frantic barking. "I just need a minute. Don't hurt anyone else, please…" he begged sternly.

"You've got 30 seconds…"

John lay on the floor trying to breathe through the pain that was numbing all his senses. He wasn't sure how much time had passed since he was shot but at some point Bear's barks subsided and the only sound in the room came from Finch's undisturbed rhythmical typing. Mentally, John was aware of the unfinished business looming over him, but his body was beginning to shut down and so John found himself fighting the urge to fall asleep. He went in and out of consciousness, tuned in and out of background conversation but when a familiar buzzing noise filled the room, John was wide awake.

A sudden, dead-still silence fell upon the others in the room. The only sound came from the violent ringing of the subway's payphone.

"Well, well, well…." announced Greer smugly "it seems that your little Machine is alive and kicking…."

 _Could The Machine really be alive?! …maybe Harold actually found it?_

John heard the shuffle of Greer's footsteps towards the payphone and used this moment to get up. His eyes quickly settled on Finch, but Finch simply stared at the phone with the deepest frown John had ever seen.

John couldn't quite place his finger on it, but something wasn't adding up. He turned behind him carefully, analysing and assessing the surroundings but apart from the two Samaritan goons, everything appeared normal. Despite this however, John felt uncomfortable and so whilst everyone's attention was fixed on Greer, John's gaze continued surveying the area in a repetitive loop.

Greer pressed the phone to his ear and in that same second a single stun grenade rolled along the floor. John grabbed Finch's arm and dived to the ground. He clasped both of his hands over his ears, pinched his eyes shut as the grenade unleashed its bang of momentary paralysis.

The sound that followed was unmistakable for John; two successive gunshots. Confused, John opened his eyes only to witness both of his former bodyguards drop to the floor. John continued to stare, narrowing his gaze to see through the disorientating smoke and that's when he saw Root!

She stood tall and proud, wearing a short smirk and a steely look of determination.

It was in that moment that John figured out what was happening here and it was the glint in Root's eyes that gave the game away.

 _Root….The payphone…_

Root met John's gaze and grinned a knowing smile. She kicked a nearby handgun in John's direction, which rattled along the subway concrete and stopped just beside John's uninjured shoulder.

John smiled. _Show off!_

As Root approached him, John realised she would need cover from Samaritan lackey number 3. He grabbed the gun and fired several shots at Mr Tall & Bald. Fusco, who had been watching John, released Bear's leash along with several stern instructions.

Bear attacked an unsuspecting Greer. He wrapped his strong jaw around Greer's wrist, which disabled Greer's grip on the gun and pinned him awkwardly against the wall.

"Bear, laat gaan…" instructed Root in a stern tone as she faced-off with Greer.

Bear released the prisoner but sat down beside Greer; his body alert, ready to pounce again when needed.

Greer's eyes danced about the room in a desperate attempt to find a way out but at the back of his mind he knew that he was cornered. Under Root's venomous glare, his body sunk into itself in a blatant show of surrender and his strained gaze finally met hers.

"You may have won this battle…" said Greer bitterly "but you haven't won the war. One day there will be another version of Samaritan and one day your Machine _will_ be defeated…"

"Maybe so, but you won't be alive to see it…." replied Root as she aimed her gun at Greer's head. "This is for Shaw…." she added.

Then, Root pulled the trigger.

Root's first bullet landed in Greer's heart. His hands gripped his chest as his body fell backwards. He struggled for breath for a brief second, before his body began to slide along the wall, his eyes open but empty.

Root stared at Greer's lifeless body as memories of Shaw's final moments filled her mind. Tension and anger built up within her and almost unconsciously she pressed the trigger again and again, until she was shooting in a quick and wild rhythm that didn't allow for much aim.

"Miss Groves…." said Finch softly, waking Root from her reverie. He placed a soft hand on top of her outstretched arm …"…Root, stop….….it's over…"

Root lowered her arm almost reluctantly and Finch's shaky hands squeezed her shoulders sympathetically. In reply, Root collapsed into Finch and hugged him tight as uncontrollable sobs overwhelmed her.

"….errrr…..I hate to break up the party…" groaned Fusco who sat in front of Finch and Root "…but some of us could use a little help…"

Root pulled away from Finch, offered Fusco an apologetic smile and crouched over his leg to study his wounds. Meanwhile Finch hobbled over to John and checked his pulse. John growled in response. "Hang in there Mr Reese…." he reassured softly and reclaimed the seat behind his desk.

"I'm going to arrange for some medical assistance…." announced Finch loudly and began typing frantically.

Root had assembled a couple of John's discarded white shirts, and resumed her position beside Fusco holding them and a bottle of Bourbon.

Fusco smiled dreamily. "Dammit Cocoa Puffs, you sure know how to tempt a man…"

"It's not for drinking, Lionel…" answered Root with her creepy, crazy smile which Fusco knew was a sure sign of trouble. He raised his head to inspect what Root was doing but before he had a chance to make sense of anything, Root had poured the Bourbon all over his injured leg.

"AAAAAAARRRRGHHHH!" he screamed on top of his lungs.

"Sorry, Lionel but as you can see we're not exactly equipped for surgery around here…" explained Root sweetly as she replaced the blood-soaked rags around Fusco's leg with John's shirts.

"A little heads up would have been nice!" complained Fusco through gritted teeth "Your bedside manner really sucks, you know that, right?!"

Root smiled briefly and continued to wrap Fusco's leg wound with fresh fabric in contemplative silence. The pain was testing all of Fusco's resolve so he lent his head back, pinched his eyes shut and attempted to find some kind of breathing rhythm.

Sometime later, the pain eased and Fusco's body felt a lot stronger. Puzzled, Fusco opened his eyes to inspect the situation and that's when he witnessed Mr Tall & Bald rising to his shaky feet behind Root.

Absentmindedly, Fusco gripped and pulled at Root's arm. Root swung behind her just as Mr Tall & Bald aimed his weapon at Finch.

"Fiiiiiinnnnch!..." yelled Fusco after finally rediscovering the ability to speak. "Get down!""

But Root was already in motion, heading straight for Finch. She jumped on his back and bought them both crashing to the ground.

Root landed on top of Finch, with his bullet inside her left lung.

Bear barked, howled and growled. Mr Tall & Bald turned his weapon on Fusco.

Tired and out of options, Fusco stared into the barrel of the gun that would end his life, in a frozen, almost dazed manner. He thought about saying some sort of prayer but before he could find the words a succession of rapid gunshots flew past him.

Several bullets decorated the torso of Mr Tall & Bald right before Fusco's eyes.

Confused, Fuso followed the direction of fire.

John knelt on his injured shoulder, barely able to hold his balance. He gave Fusco a short nod and fell backwards in uncontrolled, unconscious heap.


	32. Chapter 32: She never gave up on you

_Thanks to all who still read this despite the lengthy time lapses between chapters..._

 **CHAPTER** **THIRTY** **TWO: She never gave up on you…**

Meanwhile, a few hundred miles away in an underground secret bunker beneath The Pentagon, a four-star hospital room with transparent glass walls and clinical white floors, housed a former government assassin. Dressed in white button-top pyjamas, Sameen Shaw hobbled into her private bathroom. She placed both hands on the edge of the sink to support the weight of her frail body and stared at her own reflection in the mirror above. She forced herself to make friends with the woman who seemed foreign to her; this deathly pale, weak and feeble version of the person she knew. The only thing she recognized about herself was the angry glare in her eyes, which at this moment in time was directly fixated on the long vertical scar dominating the centre of her chest.

A brisk knock on the door awoke Shaw from her thoughts, prompting her to gently close the two final buttons of her shirt.

"Yeah…" she grunted in a barely audible whisper

A blonde woman popped her head in the door, gave Shaw and her bathroom a quick visual examination and walked in, closing the door behind her.

 _Agent Jessica Hall – Root's former partner, Control's former lackey and the woman who swears she doesn't have any plans to kill me. Hmmmmm…..not that I have much of a choice about that, right now I can barely hold a gun, let alone use one!_

"Hall…." muttered Shaw tentatively as her poker- faced expression met Hall's reflection. "What do you want?"

Hall rested both her hands on her hips. "Shaw, you know why I'm here. It's time for your cardio test…"

"I did that yesterday…"

"You have to keep doing it until you pass. Until you get better…" explained Hall with an impatient sigh.

"I don't _have_ to do anything!" snapped Shaw angrily, but this only caused her head to spin, so she paused and allowed herself to calm down. She turned to face the agent. She sat on the edge of the sink and inhaled a long, deep breath, before her eyes met Hall. " _You_ stuck this thing inside my chest without my permission. _You_ can't get it to work and cos of _you_ I can barely breathe!"

Hall walked a few steps and sat on the edge of the sink beside Shaw. "Shaw it won't always be like this. We will fix this…." she reassured softly.

Shaw sighed heavily and her tired but determined gaze met Hall's. "I'm not doing any more tests. At least not until you tell me what's going on here…." she said in a non-negotiable manner and when Hall made an attempt to speak, Shaw cut in "….and don't give me that crap about national security. You tell me everything or just shoot me right here and now…"

Hall exhaled a resigned sigh. "Last year, Control had started a clinical trial into bionic hearts as an alternative to heart transplants. She took in injured soldiers and field agents who did not meet the standard heart recipient criteria and she gave them mechanical fully functional hearts. I can't say I was Control's biggest fan, but this trial may just be the best thing she did around here…"

"So when I first arrived here, half dead to dying, I was the perfect little plaything for Control's new experiment…."

Hall shrugged offhandedly. "She had to keep you alive somehow. You were pretty far gone from what I remember…"

"But why?..." asked Shaw with a frown. "Killing me was her best play in the long run and Root was outnumbered here, she could have dealt with Root if she wanted to…."

Hall shrugged casually. "I don't know her real reasons. Maybe she felt she owed it to you or maybe she really wanted to honour her deal with Root…"

Shaw sighed heavily as memories of the night she murdered Control flashed through her mind. "I guess in the end she did save me. The heart worked, at least for a little while….." she reflected with reluctant admiration.

"Yeah it did…" said Hall as she studied Shaw from the corner of her eye. "It bought you back to the team. It bought you back to Root…." she added softly, her voice barely audible.

Shaw's stomach tightened nervously as she thought about Root, about their reunion in the woods, at the subway, at the safe house...but then all that was replaced by one persistent memory; Root sprawled out on Samaritan floor, taking pathetic cover from a hail of bullets…

Shaw blinked frantically and wiped away the few stray tears that managed to stream down her face.

"My field team finished collecting all the evidence from Samaritan HQ or what's left of it. The entire building burnt to a crisp..." explained Hall in a procedural, factual tone. "The tapes show that your team made it out of Samaritan HQ and Washington DC. I've dispatched a team to New York, but have had no reports back so far ….."

Shaw offered Hall a half-hearted smile of thanks. _At least there is a chance that Root made it out alive..._

"Anyway….." said Hall with a casual wave of the hand. "After Control's death things were hectic around here. I was picking up the pieces bit by bit and I wouldn't have stumbled upon the clinical trial for another 10 years if it wasn't for you. It turns out, your bionic heart and that of every other patient in this trial was linked to our central computer, where core vitals of its function were being monitored. One day the system alerted us that your core vitals were above normal, suggesting that your heart was under severe distress. That's what turned my attention to the clinical trial and to you…."

"What happened? Why were my vitals above normal?"

"Ultimately because of the same reason you collapsed at Samaritan HQ. We didn't know this at the time, but we now know that a strong magnetic field can interfere with the functionality of your implanted heart…."

"The electric substation….." mumbled Shaw in awe, finally pleased that the puzzle pieces in her head were fitting together. "A couple of days before we went to Samaritan HQ, I was at an electric substation. I was playing about with Root's computer servers and I began to feel unwell….."

Hall nodded thoughtfully. "What happened after?"

Shaw shrugged offhandedly. "I left the substation, had a decent sleep and felt better the next day…"

"The magnetic field wasn't strong enough to initiate emergency shut down, at least not that time….." explained Hall confidently but when she noticed Shaw's puzzled expression, she backtracked. "Control programmed the central computer to intervene with the heart implant in an event of an emergency. At Samaritan HQ, especially in the server room, the magnetic field was so high that it would have broken the heart implant if it wasn't for the computer's interference. The magnetic field sent your vitals into another overdrive and the central computer shut down 90% of the heart's functionality and sent you into a coma….."

Shaw took a thoughtful minute to process this new information. Then she pointed to the scar on her chest and asked. "So does this mean you gave me heart 2.0?"

Hall didn't appear to hear Shaw's question and continued with her own explanation. "Whenever the computer initiates an emergency shut down of the implant, it presents us with a location of the patient so that medical assistance could be dispatched. We got you back here where Dr Adams made some essential modifications to your original implant."

"What kind of modifications?"

"The kind that disable any possible interference from magnetic fields…"

A brief silence filled the room.

Absentmindedly, Shaw's hand traced the outline of the scar on her chest and her resigned gaze met Hall's. "It's been a week, Jess. A week of failed cardio tests…" she stated flatly. "Maybe this is the best it's gonna get…"

Hall shook her head with disapproval. "Your heart worked before. Its basic functionality was not affected by your latest surgery. There is no reason why it shouldn't work again…"

"Then, I guess it's me…." said Shaw with a heavy sigh as her frail body made a slow turn back to face the mirror. "Maybe I just don't have any more fight left in me…."

Hall stepped closer to Shaw so that her reflection could be seen in the mirror. She crossed her arms and her sergeant-like disciplinary stare met Shaw's doubtful eyes. "You know, when you were here the first time, Root never stopped talking about you. You were in a coma and nobody knew if you were gonna live till tomorrow, but Root kept making plans for the two of you ….."

Shaw's weak hands clasped tighter around the edge of the sink. "Yeah, that's Root alright…" she muttered roughly.

"She never gave up on you…"

Shaw inhaled a deep breath and closed her eyes as more tears threatened to escape her.

"I know…." she whispered breathlessly.


	33. Chapter 33: Can you hear me?

_Big thanks to all who are still reading this..._

 **CHAPTER THIRTY THREE: Can you hear me?**

Harold Finch entered a tall, glass-fronted building that housed one of New York's finest hospitals. The young woman at the front desk gave Finch a quick smile of recognition whilst speaking to another customer and placed a plastic white card on the desk in front of him. "Harold Kingfisher, VISITOR…" read the card, which Finch attached to his breast pocket with some trepidation.

The ID card always reminded Finch of _that_ day, of the events that led them here; all his soldiers, all his friends, injured and bleeding. He could still remember the warmth of Root's blood as it pooled on his torso, on _that_ day when she had selflessly saved his life. It was on _that_ day, he vowed to do whatever it took to save his friends and so it was on _that_ day that Harold Kingfisher was born. Mr Kingfisher was an enigmatic foreign benefactor with a fondness for American hospitals, but in reality he was simply the product of Finch's superior knowledge of online banking systems.

Finch shuddered and pushed the painful memories aside. He gave a brief nod of thanks to the woman behind the desk and began a purposeful, rather hurried walk through the sterile corridors.

Upon arriving on the third floor, Finch was surprised to find Fusco and John hovering outside room 347.

Fusco sat in a wheelchair with an exasperated scowl on his face; his femoral bullet wound on the mend but not quite healed enough for walking. Meanwhile, John dressed in his trademark suit, stood tall and proud and wore the sling around his shoulder like a fashion model. Both men appeared pre-occupied with their thoughts and eyed Finch somewhat apologetically.

"Good morning gentlemen…." greeted Finch despondently. His gaze studied his friends for a brief moment and he added "I take it your visit with Miss Groves didn't go as well as we'd hoped…"

John nodded in agreement "I'm sorry Finch…."

"Did she say _anything_?" asked Finch

"No…" replied Fusco in an uncharacteristically serious tone "She just lay there, still as a rock…"

"She's grieving, Harold…." reassured John softly.

"I know. I just wish she would rely on us a little more to help her through this difficult period…." replied Finch frustratingly. "Her physical wounds have almost healed and yet she remains in that bed, in a trance as if she's still in a coma. That cannot be healthy, Mr Reese…"

"Maybe not, but everyone grieves in their own way Harold…"

"I'm with Tall, Dark and Handsome on this one Finch…" Fusco grimaced as he shifted his weight in his chair "maybe time and space is all she needs…" he added.

Finch sighed softly as his longing gaze settled on the door of Room 347. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately and I believe it's time….."

John raised a tentative brow.. "The Machine?..." he asked knowingly.

Finch nodded in agreement. "Perhaps The Machine will offer Miss Groves a distraction, something else to focus on, whilst she…..comes to terms with-…." Finch trailed off as a sombre silence filled the room.

"Hang on…" said Fusco "I thought you said that talking about The Machine with Cocoa Puffs could make her go a little extra Puffy?"

"It's true. I am extremely concerned as to what affect this could have on her…." explained Finch anxiously "….however I feel like we need to keep trying…"

Fusco and John exchanged worried glances but didn't voice their concerns, so Finch approached room 347.

He knocked, but mostly out of habit and not because he was expecting an answer. As he walked in, Root lay on her side, facing the door, her body covered with two thick blankets from neck to toe. She appeared relatively well, she had color in her cheeks and her eyes were open, but just like on all of Finch's prior visits, her eyes didn't register his arrival.

"Good morning, Miss Groves…" greeted Finch awkwardly.

Closing the door behind him, Finch shuffled further into Root's room and proceeded to place his briefcase onto the portable table that swung out over Root's bed. For a brief moment, he stared glumly at the unmoving and unresponsive outline of Root's body and exhaled a long breath.

"I'm afraid, that the nature of my visit today is rather different from before…" he paused and opened the briefcase. He took out a laptop and placed it onto the table. "I've come to ask for your help…"

His attention was briefly absorbed by the laptop, but after a few quick strokes of typing, Finch's eyes returned to Root.

"I have been trying to find The Machine but it's been more difficult than I could have ever predicted…" he explained somewhat apologetically, his eyes dancing about Root's motionless body.

 _Nothing…Not even a flinch._

"Every once in a while I see signs of its life, a glimmer of what we used to know as The Machine but then it all disappears…..It's as if _She's_ struggling to break free…"

Finch scratched his head, surprised at his own choice of words. He turned the laptop screen towards Root. "On this laptop is everything I have tried so far. I am leaving it here and if you ever feel up to it, I would be most grateful for any help you could offer."

 _No response._

Root didn't display any signs of understanding and although Finch wasn't expecting her too, he was still struck by a deep sense of disappointment. Finch sighed heavily, gathered his belongings and left the room in brooding silence.

 **LATER THAT EVENING**

Beneath the thick blankets, Root's warm body rose up and down in a gentle and calming rhythm that echoed the sound of her heart. A short and peaceful smile covered her face as she rode her motorbike through the empty and desolate streets of NYC. It was a perfect winter's day, the sun was shining, the cold was biting and the wind was just on the right side of cool.

Root didn't know where she was going, but she could tell she was getting close. She could hear a low and intermittent buzzing noise somewhere in the background, but couldn't pin-point its exact location. It was faint at first, but the more corners she turned and the further she rode, the more prominent and irritating it became.

Eventually, Root arrived at what appeared to be a run-down and abandoned warehouse. She parked her motorbike, but wasn't sure where to go next, because the annoying overpowering noise from before had now ceased. She made a cautious walk around the perimeter of the warehouse, when suddenly she heard a voice she thought she recognized.

 _"Can you hear me?"_

Root reasoned that the voice could only have come from inside the warehouse, so she drew her weapon and kicked the door open.

Then she saw _her_ ; splayed out on the floor, deathly still and silent.

"Shhhhhaaaawwww!"

Root jumped out of her hospital bed gasping for breath. Sweat pooled around her face as she paced the room in circles, hands wound into tight fists.

"Arrrgghhhh!" she screamed as her hand swept across the junk on her portable table above her bed, tossing everything to the floor, "not again….pleeaaaase…"she cried as her body sunk to the floor beside the bed.

Root hugged her knees close to her chest and rested the side of her head against them, keeping her eyes firmly open. Tears continued to fall and Root continued to stare at the walls in motionless silence in a desperate attempt to stay awake.

Root's eyes danced about the room and at some point during the evening they settled on the orange plastic container perched on the top of her bedside table.

Root's attention was immediately captured and she remembered how a few days ago she had stolen some sleeping pills from the hospital pharmacy. She crawled excitedly towards the bedside table, grabbed the plastic container and spilled a handful of pills into her palm.

She needed the dreams to stop, at least for one night.

 **MEANWHILE**

Finch sat on a quiet bench in Central Park, a green tea in one hand and his trusted laptop in the other. He opened the computer to begin his daily search for The Machine but unlike on all previous occasions of this type, Finch's computer opened with just a black screen and a short, flashing message upon it;

 _Analogue Interface: probability of survival = 1%_


End file.
